“Let's go,” Malao whispered. He crept silently through the evening shadows toward Ying's camp, staying close to the makeshift trail that had led them into the forest with Tonglong. Fu followed, but Malao noticed he looked uneasy. A moment later, Fu signaled to Malao that he heard someone up ahead. Malao motioned for Fu to follow him up a large oak tree. Fu did so without comment. Malao grinned. He was enjoying being the boss for once.

Malao settled into the tree's enormous arms and crossed his legs. He formed a makeshift table on his lap with his robe and untied the knot around the mushrooms. Carefully, he laid each one upside down on his lap and removed the stems. He picked up a mushroom cap and flipped it over into his cupped palm, running a finger across the gills. Tiny spores sprinkled into his hand. He grabbed another cap, and then another, until he had collected spores from all of them.

Malao closed his fist tightly around the spores and stood, brushing the mushroom caps and stems to the ground. They bounced noisily off the large, crunchy leaves that littered the forest floor beneath the oak.

Fu stuck his head around the tree trunk and glared at Malao. “Shhh! I think—” Fu stopped in mid-sentence and snapped his head back around to his side of the tree.

Malao peeked around the tree and squinted into the setting sun. He saw a stocky soldier hobbling in their direction. The soldier had a splint on one leg and carried a large leather bag over one shoulder. He also carried a long forked stick. Malao recognized the soldier as Commander Woo, the man who had held the goblet for Ying when he'd seen Ying bleed a snake.

Malao nodded to Fu. Fu returned the nod and hunched over, preparing to pounce.

But Commander Woo never looked up. He took a quick look around the base of the tree, then limped off into the forest.

Fu looked at Malao. Malao shrugged.

“It's better that he didn't see us,” Malao whispered as he folded the bundle of grass down over his face. “Trust me. Now, you follow him from the ground and I'll follow him from the trees. Don't attack unless it's absolutely necessary. Stick to the plan.”

“We'll see,” Fu replied. He leaped silently out of the tree and took cover in a thick bush.

Malao tightened his fist around the spores and jumped into a nearby tree. He paused a few moments before springing into a third. Malao looked down. Commander Woo was directly below him, opening the leather bag.

Malao watched as Commander Woo set the forked stick aside and eased himself onto the ground. He rummaged through the leather bag and removed the pouch of dragon bone, a small spoon, and the goblet. The Commander steadied the goblet on the ground and opened the silk pouch clumsily. He dumped a spoonful of the powder into the goblet and retied the pouch. As Commander Woo put the pouch and the spoon back into the leather bag, Malao dropped out of the tree and wiggled from head to toe in the half-light, his grassy outline shimmering.

“What do you think you are going to do with that powder?” Malao asked in the same ghastly voice he had used back at Cangzhen.

Commander Woo looked up and his entire body jolted. His mouth moved like he was talking, but no words came out.

Malao choked back a giggle. “I see you've heard of me, Commander. Your men knew I would return if they mentioned me to anyone.”

“W-what does that have to do with me?” Commander Woo asked. “I didn't tell anyone about you.”

“Liar!” Malao said. “I know you told that witchcraft amateur Ying about me. Say goodbye to this life, Commander Woo. I have come to swallow your soul!”

“No!” Commander Woo said. “P-please, I'll do anything you ask.”

“Anything?”

“Yes!”

“Give me the dragon bone.”

Commander Woo paused. “B-but it doesn't belong to me. It's Major Ying's.”

“Would you like me to summon the spirit of the dragon that once called those bones his own?” Malao asked. “I'm sure he'd be happy to meet the man who is making a drink with his remains.”

“No!” Commander Woo said. “What if—”

A low growl erupted from a large bush behind Commander Woo. The Commander spun around.

Malao quickly brushed the mushroom spores from his hand into the goblet.

Commander Woo looked back at Malao. “W-what was that noise?”

“The dragon, you fool,” Malao said, trying desperately not to giggle. Fu was supposed to have hissed, not growled.

Commander Woo's eyes widened.

A voice suddenly rang out from the direction of the camp. “Commander Woo? Is that you?”

Malao recognized that voice. It was Tonglong.

Commander Woo turned toward the voice, and Malao disappeared into the undergrowth.




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