Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [209]
"They would think I have lost my wits," he mused. "And perhaps I have."
On the following morning, Bao was in surprisingly good spirits as he prepared to set out for the park where the stick-fighters dallied.
"You're not concerned that you'll be tempted to slip back into your old ways?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "We are on a quest to save a princess and a dragon, Moirin. Today I fight for noble reasons." He fiddled with his staff. "Just because these men lead unsavory lives, do not assume they are all bad. Some are, some are not. Many come from harsh childhoods like me. No one has ever offered them something good to fight for."
I was skeptical. "These are the same men who mocked Master Lo when he came seeking a travelling companion?"
"Some," Bao admitted. "It has been years. But Master Lo is not a beautiful princess in need of heroes to rescue her."
"You're counting on there being a hopeless romantic or two in the lot."
He grinned. "Uh-huh."
I eyed him. "I'm going with you."
Bao argued against it, but he didn't argue hard or long, and I thought that despite his bravado, he would be glad to have me there. I fetched my bow and quiver and went with him.
Although the mood in Shuntian was restless and uncertain, people were going about their daily lives. The park was a pleasant place, open for all the folk of the city to enjoy. We passed a square filled with young women practicing a graceful dance with long scarlet ribbons that swirled and trailed in the air, reminding me of the dragon's coils. We passed long pavilions where old men sat and played games with porcelain tiles or polished stones. Our passage drew a few curious glances, but as long as I kept my eyes averted, no one stared.
We heard the clash of stick-fighters sparring before we reached the square they considered their own. There were over twenty of them, laughing and shouting, some engaging in mock duels, others lounging on benches. They were a colorful lot, flaunting their ill-gotten wealth in bright clothing.
At the edge of the square, Bao planted his staff and stood, waiting. Beside him, I unslung my bow, holding it loosely.
A tall fellow with an even taller hat was the first to spot us. "Hey, peasant-boy!" he called. "You come to pick a fight?"
"Uh-huh."
"You've come to the right—" The tall stick-fighter paled. "Shangun?"
"Lightning Stick?" I murmured.
Bao gave me a sidelong glance. "I was young and foolish, all right?" He jerked his chin at the tall fellow. "Gaomen! Who leads you these days?"
It had gotten very quiet in the square. All sparring ceased. The men lounging on benches got to their feet, staves in hand, all save one handsome, strapping young fellow. They were staring at Bao—and they were staring at me, which meant I couldn't summon the twilight. I tightened my grip on my bow, calculating how quickly I could draw and nock an arrow.
"Well?" Bao faced the twenty-odd members of his former gang. "Who leads you these days?"
"You've come to challenge?" asked a burly fellow with a sloping chin.
"Tortoise." Bao smiled a little, and I eased my grip on my bow. "Yes." He made a gesture with his staff. "Do I need to prove myself to the new blood? Or do you concede my right to challenge your leader?"
The stick-fighters exchanged murmurs.
The young man yet lounging on the bench rose. The others parted and made way for him. "I will accept the challenge."
Bao inclined his head. "You lead here?"
"You don't know me?" The young man planted his staff and gripped it with white-knuckled intensity, staring at Bao. Alone among the stick-fighters, he hadn't the slightest interest in me.
"Ah… no."
"I was the boy you didn't deem worthy of teaching, Shangun," he said grimly. "I was the boy you humiliated and abandoned. But I found other teachers, and I learned until I bested them all. Now I lead in your place." With one deft move, he whipped his staff to a horizontal position. "And I am more than ready