As one of those platter-sized eyes fixed on me, clearly expecting some sort of answer, my heart dropped. What was I supposed to do? I was in no shape to take on a dragon. Even if a hidden cache of who knew what secret treasures and artifacts sounded like exactly the sort of thing I needed to even the odds between myself and Sun Feiyun. Perhaps this was how the universe mocked mortals who dreamed of vengeance against the immortal - give them everything they desired when they weren’t strong enough to make it their own.

Then again, Wai Kei and the ‘sea-devil’ had been trapped like this for who knows how long. Perhaps they could wait a while longer. “I’ll have to become stronger,” I said, meeting his one eye with both of mine. “But when I am, I’ll come back and free you both from the Array. Uncover Guanqing’s workshop once more. If you want to be free, that is.”

“Oh, I’ve no great feeling on the matter one way or the other. So long as the water is gone, I might once again pass a night listening to a story I haven’t heard and eating a delicious treat.” The great eye slid closed in a slow blink. “But is that a child’s dream I hear? Or a woman’s promise?”

I froze. A promise to a spirit, even a bound one, was not something to be made lightly. Wai Kei would remember and perhaps visit a curse on some far flung descendant of mine. You heard of things like that, where a child was forced to bear the ire of some celestial grudge that had happened centuries ago. I licked my lips, tasted salt. My arm ached. It reminded me of how powerless I was. How powerless I didn’t want to be. I took a breath - a proper breath that made the spectral furnace of my lower dantian glow with satisfaction - and said, “I couldn’t promise a specific time, Wai Kei. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to be as strong as I need to be. But…I want to come back. I want to see the workshop as it’s meant to be.” I smiled up at him. “I promise that I’ll return and do my best to banish the sea dragon back to her realm. On the names of my mother and father.”

“Ah, there’s a proper oath.” Wai Kei chuckled and his whole body rumbled beneath me. “Good. Accepted. I can wait.” Another earthquake chuckle. “But you, I think, cannot. Here.” His great head swung down, and with his beak he snapped off one of the large, glowing crystals from his own back. With his mouth, he held it aloft in the abyssal darkness, until I could see what he was indicating: a narrow tunnel in the rock. We must have been swimming through the underground lake the entire time the god was telling his story. I hadn’t noticed at all.

He placed the crystal in the lip of the tunnel, illuminating it. “This tunnel will take you back to the skin of the mountain. Most of the way, anyway. I’ll open the rest for you when you get there, and keep the devil from flooding the whole thing.” There was a low rumble of discontent. “I’ll have to close it behind you. A shame. I would like a visitor, every now and again.”

The low note in his deep voice touched me. I reached out with my good arm, greatly daring, and placed it on the part of his neck I could reach. It was thick and pebbly under my hand. I patted carefully. “There are clearly passages that come back here. I’ll find one. Maybe for a visit…once I can figure out how not to drown.”

“That would be pleasant. Especially if you brought honey ginger balls. Now,” the great head descended and rested itself beside me on the shell. I marveled at the twist and bend in the neck. “Climb on,” he rumbled.

It was no easy feat climbing up to sit on top of the turtle dragon’s head with only one arm but I managed. There was a tiny ridge just behind his head. I clung to this as he rose once more to deposit me at the lip of the tunnel. After I jumped down, I turned and bowed deep. “I am forever grateful for your assistance, Honored Wai Kei.”

“And I have been quite pleased to meet you, young Zhou Hou.” He pointed at the glowing crystal with the tip of his beak. “You should take that. It will light your way.”

The crystal was easily the size of my torso. But when a god gives you a gift, you don’t refuse because it’s too big. So I wrapped my good arm around the thing and tried to pick it up. It was lighter than it looked; I staggered backwards, my broken arm flailing in a way that brought tears back to my eyes.

Wai Kei watched and laughed. “Allow me,” he rumbled. The crystal in my arm grew blinding-bright. I closed my eyes. In my arm, the stone shivered and changed, dwindling until I could roll it into my palm and hold it one-handed. I opened my eyes as the radiance faded. The crystal now fit neatly in my grip, glowing like the summer sun through a screen of young bamboo. “That should serve.” His giant mouth gaped open. I didn’t even know gods could yawn. But this one did, long and loud. “I feel the urge for a nap coming on,” he said, withdrawing from the tunnel mouth. “Go quickly, lest I fall asleep before I can open your way to the surface.”

“Thank you again, Honored One.”

“Your promise, young one, is all the gratitude I require.”

My last sight of him was his ponderous bulk in retreat, the black waves lapping gently at his shell. The crystals on his back dimmed until the one I held was the only one which remained. By its soothing, green light, I left the flooded workshop behind.

*

Koh the Older saw me first. At least, he raised the cry when I staggered into the work crew. There were about six of them, shepherded by two burly servants, and it was just after dawn. I’d found my way to the skin of the mountain some time before, but hadn’t tried to move until dark; even with the light of the crystal the mountain was too treacherous. Once the sun rose high enough to burn away some portion of the fog, I slipped the crystal into my ring and began to make my way back towards the walls of the sect, glimpsed above me. When I heard the sounds of the crew, I changed my course.

I must have made quite the sight: sodden, one arm crudely restrained, only one shoe left, battered and bruised from my tumble through the waters. “Zhou Hou!” Koh barked his surprise, his timber axe lifted in an instinctive defensive motion. “Don’t punish us! We would have performed your rites had we known where your body lay.”

We stared at each other. “I’m not dead, Koh.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“I think I would know.”

“Thank the gods,” he replied, letting the axe drop to the loamy floor of the forest. “Where have you been?”

Before I could answer, there was a great bellow from elsewhere in the group. “Laoshu!” Zhuzhu rushed forward. His arms came around me with crushing force as he spun us around. “You live!”

I screamed as the rough handling turned my arm to fire. He dropped me in surprise. I staggered two steps away and fell down in front of everyone, white lights of pain exploding behind my eyes.

The whole business derailed the work crew entirely. The servants quickly stepped in and took a look at my arm. One of them snorted before pronouncing it not likely to kill me anytime soon but also allowed that I looked ragged enough for it to be worth sending me to the apothecary. Zhuzhu immediately offered to carry me back. To my surprise, Koh also asked leave to accompany me. The servants grumbled about two of their largest workers disappearing at the beginning of the shift, but agreed.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I soon realized that Zhuzhu meant ‘carry’ literally. “Oh no,” I said. “I can walk. I walked here.”

“Limped,” Koh muttered, with a meaningful look at my bare foot. It was covered in forest debris and oozing blood from small wounds from rock and branch.

Walking on it was still better than the humiliation of being carried like a child. Or a woman - and although I had checked my talisman before stepping out of the tunnel, I was all too aware that it had also taken damage. I didn’t want anyone putting their hands on any part of my body that might betray me, if I could help it. “Limping is walking,” I said, trying to sound bold. Taking a few steps forward with as little limp as I could manage, I forced a grin to my mouth. “See? I’m fine. It’s just the arm.”

Koh narrowed his eyes. Then he shrugged. “Your feet.” He started after me.

Zhuzhu laughed and just stopped himself before landing another of those bone-shaking back pats he was fond of. “The mightiest Mouse, indeed. I knew that a little water was no match for you.” He took my other side as we picked our way down the trail to the sect.

Koh snorted. “And yet you drank all of Yuxuan’s plum wine and wept like a child all night.” He glanced to me. “He toasted you ten times.”

Zhuzhu glared over my head at Koh, who showed no sign of caring. “The gods receive humility with joy. I mourned as is proper and look! Piety rewarded.” He gestured at me as if my appearance was somehow entirely his doing.

But he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he fussed the entire way back to the sect gates. When we reached them, he called, “Open for an injured brother! Summon Brother Yuanshu at once!”

“He’s not dying,” Koh said, as the echoes of Zhuzhu’s voice - as big as the rest of him - bounced off wall and cliff. The gates opened with a gratifying swiftness.

“You don’t know that.” Zhuzhu stamped his foot. “He could be injured deep within. A poison of the blood. A corruption of qi. It could be anything.”

“I’m not dying,” I said. “I just got knocked around. Luckily, it was mostly my head.” At their puzzled looks, I cleared my throat. “It’s the hardest part of me.”

Koh’s mouth twitched upwards, just once and just for a second. Zhuzhu took another couple of heartbeats before he got it. Then he bellowed laughter. “A joke! You must be fine.”

“Perhaps I should be the judge of that.” The gates had opened, and Yuanshu stood there. His hair was in an untidy topknot, clearly scraped hastily together, and his clothing was disheveled. Not that I was one to make observations on appearance. His mild eyes flicked over me. “You’re upright, at least. Not a bad sign. Can you walk to the infirmary, Younger Brother?”

“I can carr–” Zhuzhu began.

“I can walk.”

“Then do so, please.” Yuanshu gestured, and we made our way at my walking pace (slower than I, in my pride, would have liked). My labored breathing was the loudest sound as we walked through the sect. A few curious looks followed us, but only a few. The other initiates were doing their chores and as far as I could tell, the inner disciples barely bothered to learn our names if they didn’t have to.

When we reached the infirmary, Yuanshu stepped inside without hesitation. Koh stared at the building. His nose wrinkled. “I’m going back,” he said and turned away. “He doesn’t need you here,” he added over one shoulder to Zhuzhu.

“He’s right,” I put in before Zhuzhu could do more than part his lips. “It’s just my arm. I’ll get an elixir and go rest.”

Zhuzhu gripped my good shoulder and leaned in, his eyes dark and intent as he bent over me. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said, quietly. Then, an even lower rumble, “There is no need to mention what happened. I tried to save us both. I failed. I regret it.” His fingers tightened on my shoulder, not quite to the point of pain. “We’re still friends, yes?”

“Still friends,” I assured him, keeping my eyes as wide as when I had stolen a freshly-made red bean bun from my mother’s kitchen. If it had been true, then perhaps I might have asked him why it mattered. Seven Striking Thunder wasn’t likely to condemn him for looking out for himself. I didn’t even blame him.

Or I hadn’t, until this moment, and his use of his strength to take the silence I would have granted him for free. He stared into my eyes for a triple beat of my heart before straightening. “Good. You are a mighty Mouse indeed, Laoshu. Go, be healed.” He released me and waved a hand at Koh’s back. “Wait up!”

Koh didn’t slow down. Zhuzhu ran to catch him while I limped my way into the infirmary. Inside, Yuanshu was setting medicines out on a jade tray. He gestured at the nearby seat. Once I sat down, he picked up a knife. “Not many who get lost on the mountain come back to us. Certainly not in such good shape.” He cut through the strips of fabric on my improvised splint. The flesh underneath was swollen and painful. I bit back the cries that wanted to escape as he prodded at the tissue.

He looked up. From this close, I could see that there were strange occlusions in his brown eyes, specks of gold and silver that I’d never seen in human eyes before. “Did you do this yourself?” At my nod, he smiled. “Not a terrible job. You should consider doing a few shifts here at the infirmary. Medical knowledge is always useful.”

I blinked. As far as I knew, no one else in our cohort had been invited to take lessons from the healer. Then again, they may just not have been interested. Certainly, Yuanshu’s demeanor didn’t lend itself to believing that he would be a source of the sort of power the sect valued. “What would I be doing, Elder Brother? I don’t have any experience.”

He continued to watch me with an unsettling focus. “But you clearly have nerve. Experience is, by definition, acquired over time and exposure. Nerve, I think, is more valuable. As is discretion. I require both of the last two and can provide the first. I’d be asking you to assist me with some of my research and experiments. I’d expect your silence on the nature of my work. And, of course, you would have my silence on the nature of your sex in return.”

My mouth went dry, the metallic burn of fear on my tongue. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Yuanshu sighed. “And you were doing so well.” He shook his head before turning his attention back to my arm. He opened a jar and the pungent medical scent filled the air. “Whatever disguise you’re using serves well enough for the eye and touch, but it will never fool a master of body qi. Some of the elders no doubt attribute your unusual depth of yin to some weakness of your masculinity–and I suppose they are right. But the flow of vital energy clearly reveals your sex. No doctor could mistake it.”

“Are you going to–” The blurted question broke off as the healer slapped salve on my swollen arm; the cold shock of it stole my breath, then turned into a burning that had me biting down on my lower lip to keep from embarrassing myself with a scream.

“That depends on you,” Yuanshu said, his gentle smile never faltering. “Your discretion and aid in return for mine. I can help you improve your deception before one of the others takes a closer look. Should you pass the trials, you will be under greater scrutiny from potential masters…and rivals.”

“You’re acting like you’re trying to persuade me, Elder Brother, but it’s not really a choice, is it?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

His return shrug was mild. “There is always a choice, Zhou. And a consequence for every choice. I won’t ask why you have chosen such a deception. Only if your goal is worth the consequence you choose.”

I stared at him. His kindly features were composed. I’d thought he could be an ally because he looked like someone who wasn’t suited to the ruthlessness of a demonic sect. Just as I’d thought Zhuzhu could be a friend because he was welcoming and easy-going. My eyes ached. I pushed the tears that threatened back and lifted my chin. “You have a new assistant, doctor.”

“Ah, excellent. Thank you for your service,” he added, almost sincerely. “I suspect you’ll find as much benefit from this arrangement as I. Now, lay down and let me tend to your feet. I’ll also give you an elixir that will help regulate your qi flow to a more masculine pattern. There may be some unfortunate side-effects, but I trust you will endure.”

I didn’t bother asking what the side-effects would be. Because he was right. I would endure. I laid back on the bed, but one question nagged me even as more of that burning salve went onto my torn feet:

What research could Yuanshu be doing that was so forbidden that, even in a demonic sect, he needed an assistant he could blackmail into silence?