General Li stroked the sides of his beard, considering. “There is a way,” he said at last. “But it is impossible.”
“Tell me.”
“The only way is to change King Yama’s mind,” the general replied. “But Shang’s name has already appeared in King Yama’s book of judgment. He cannot be erased from it.”
“It is only impossible if I don’t try,” Mulan said fiercely. “And I will.”
“You are a man of unusual fortitude, Ping.” A trace of hope lifted the general’s voice, but only slightly. He nodded. “You will need it, if you are to save my son. Though I suggest you wake up first.”
Mulan tilted her head. “What?”
Her vision blurred, and the sound of a large gong boomed. She jerked awake, hitting her head on the tent pole behind her as her ears buzzed and rang. She clutched her temples.
Hadn’t she just been standing next to Shang? Now here she was back in the corner, her armor in a pile beside her.
She kicked the ground in frustration. Was it really only a dream?
She sat up, glanced at Shang. He lay motionless as before, but he was still breathing.
That was a relief. Then she remembered what General Li had said—that Shang would die in the morning.
Mulan peeked out of the tent, glimpsing the black, black night. Not one star in sight. Sunrise was perhaps several hours away.
She sat back down, clasped her arms together, and shivered. Mushu and Cri-Kee were asleep, and there was no sign of a gong.
Maybe I’m going crazy, she thought. First, that dream about General Li. And now this.
Then—
“PINGGGGG,” a beast roared. The gong sounded again. BOOOMMMMMM! Another roar. “PINGGGGG!”
Mulan hastily put on her armor and grabbed her sword, then swept aside the tent’s flap and went outside to confront whoever—or whatever—was yelling for her.
But there was no one. Nothing.
The camp was still as before. Even the embers in the fire had died out by now. All was dark, and only the rhythmic wheeze of sleeping soldiers accompanied her.
Mulan frowned. She could have sworn she’d heard something, but she must have been wrong. Still, as she turned back to her tent, something rustled in the distance.
“There you are,” a deep voice rumbled.
Mulan immediately whirled and held up her sword. She half expected to see the Huns surrounding the camp, but she was still alone.
Or so it seemed.
“Stop dawdling.” The intruder spoke so loudly he ought to have woken the entire camp, but no one stirred. Did they not hear his thunderous voice?
“Are you a soldier or a tombstone? Didn’t anyone tell you we’re in a hurry?”
Mulan ventured out into the camp, following the direction of the voice. She carefully stepped over her sleeping friends, then headed toward a thick tree trunk in a dark corner. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”
The intruder growled. “Show myself? I’m standing right in front of you. Look up.”
Mulan raised her eyes, then jumped back, startled.
Not a tree trunk at all, but an immense stone lion! He was as tall as Khan and as wide as her tent. His round eyes were orange as persimmons, and an enormous, elegant jade pendant adorned his neck. He flexed his front paws into the snow, revealing dagger-sharp claws.
Mulan brandished her sword and opened her mouth to yell for her fellow soldiers, but the stone lion moved, stepping into the moonlight with one massive paw.
She gasped. “What…what are you?”
“I am ShiShi,” the stone lion announced, proudly and regally. He peered at her, as if waiting for her to look impressed. Mulan remained silent.
“I am the guardian of the Li family, responsible for aiding every Li hero for over twenty generat—”
“So you’re here to help Shang?” Mulan interrupted. She glanced back at her tent, where Mushu, her own guardian, was still fast asleep.
ShiShi frowned. “You didn’t expect to do it alone, did you?” He squinted at her, then sniffed with disdain. “No wonder the general sent for me. You’re punier than I expected. Small and unpunctual, two worrisome traits in a soldier.”
Mulan overlooked the insults. Her eyes widened at ShiShi’s words, and hope flared in her heart. “Shang’s father sent you?”
“You promised him you would save his son, did you not? I’m here to help you fulfill that promise…although now I’m beginning to think it’s a fruitless quest. You’re no match for the Underworld.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Mulan. “Will you take me there?”
“Climb on my back,” ShiShi huffed. “Be careful when you take the braids, and don’t pull on my mane.”
His mane was thick and curly, despite being made of stone. She reached for one of the elaborate braids, then hesitated, wondering whether she should wake Mushu to bring him with her.
No, he’d just try to talk me out of going. He’d say it’s too dangerous.
Dangerous or not, she’d made up her mind. She wouldn’t let Shang die, not if there was a chance to save him.
“Hurry, little soldier,” barked ShiShi. “We don’t have much time.”
Mulan grabbed ShiShi’s braids and settled on his back. Before she could ask another question, ShiShi let out a terrible roar.
Suddenly the earth gave a terrible quake, and the ground beneath them split. As Mulan jolted back from the tremor, her sword fell out of her grasp and clattered onto the ground.
“My sword!” Mulan shouted, trying to jump off ShiShi to retrieve it. “Wait, it’s my father’s!” But the lion couldn’t hear her, not as the earth trembled and his roar echoed across the camp.
“I hope you have a strong stomach, little soldier!” shouted ShiShi. Then, without any further warning, ShiShi leapt through the hole.
And down, down they fell into the depths of Diyu, the Underworld.
Mulan clutched ShiShi’s mane with both hands, holding on so tightly she was sure her knuckles turned white. Not that she could see anything. She might as well have closed her eyes—the fall into Diyu was so dark she couldn’t tell whether they were actually falling, or whether ShiShi was bounding down an invisible tunnel.
It was probably a good thing she hadn’t had much to eat. Even with an empty stomach, Mulan felt her insides twist and roil as they fell.
Be strong, she told herself. Be strong for Shang.
She didn’t know how long she pressed her face against ShiShi’s stone head, for time squeezed and stretched. It was all she could do to gasp for breath as they careened down and down.
ShiShi landed on his paws with a thump. “Still there, little soldier?”
Mulan caught her breath and waited a beat for her stomach to stop churning. “Still here.”
The stone lion grunted, a sound that somehow indicated he was half impressed that she was still in one piece and half disappointed that the fall hadn’t terrified her. “Most men get sick on the way down here.”
I’m not most men, Mulan thought, but she kept quiet and climbed off ShiShi’s back. It was still dark, so it took her a long moment before she realized the change in ShiShi.