Reflection (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,32

of the bush emerged a short elderly woman. She wore a round straw hat and a creamy green robe with a yellow sash. The spade gleamed in her hand, and she raised it at ShiShi threateningly. “That’ll teach you, you bully of a lion, trying to scare a poor old lady.”

“He’s with us,” Mulan said quickly, stepping in front of ShiShi.

“He’s my family guardian,” Shang added.

The old lady’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, soldiers! You should have said so before. Can’t be too careful these days, not with all these demons and ghosts scurrying about. Just the other day, I caught a demon lurking by my plum trees.”

“ShiShi isn’t a demon,” Mulan said.

The old lady tossed the spade into the bushes, then grabbed Mulan by the arm and tapped her armor. Mulan noticed for the first time that the old woman didn’t glow or look translucent, like Shang. She seemed almost…alive.

The old woman wrinkled her nose. “Fashion has changed since I was last on the hundredth level. Who is the emperor now?”

“Is the hundredth level the highest level?” Mulan asked, ignoring the woman’s question. General Li had said the bamboo forest was on the seventy-ninth level, but he hadn’t been able to tell her much more. “Is that where the gate is?”

“You’re a quick one. Yes, the hundredth level is where King Yama’s throne room is.”

“What level are we on now? How do we get there?” Shang inquired.

“That isn’t so easy.” The old woman sighed. “Things here are constantly shifting. It’s like a maze. Very easy to get lost. Luckily for you, I know Diyu like the back of my hand.”

“Maybe you could help us,” suggested Shang.

“Have some tea first,” replied the old woman. “All these questions make me thirsty.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but—”

“Lao Lao,” the old woman interrupted. “You must call me Lao Lao. Everyone thinks of me as their grandmother in Diyu. We’re all family down here. It’s been so long since I’ve had company, especially that of such brave and honorable young men—and with such an impressive-looking guardian, no less!” She touched ShiShi’s mane admiringly, which seemed to immediately win over the lion despite his misgivings about her earlier. “Come, come.”

Mulan and Shang exchanged a look. “I’m sorry, Lao Lao, but we’re in a rush—”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” the old lady interrupted. Mischief twinkled in her dark, hooded eyes. “And don’t tell me you don’t have time. In Diyu, we have all the time in the world.”

Lao Lao ushered them toward her pavilion.

“Luck must be on our side,” said ShiShi happily, still preening over the woman’s praise.

“But should we trust her?” Mulan asked. The old woman’s energy and short stature reminded Mulan of Grandmother Fa. If not for her white hair, which was so long it reached past her waist, and her pointed chin unlike Grandmother Fa’s round one, the resemblance would have been striking. Maybe too striking.

“We don’t have to trust her,” said the guardian, “but not everyone in Diyu has ill intentions. Perhaps she can help us get out of here. I’d prefer that over wandering aimlessly about the Underworld.”

Shang seemed to share Mulan’s concern, but he relented. “It’s worth a try.”

He entered the pavilion first, and then ShiShi sucked in his breath so he could squeeze himself between the pillars. Following the lion, Mulan ascended the pavilion’s delicate steps and walked inside.

It’d been a long time since she had been surrounded by actual furniture: the cushions were silk, the backs of the benches latticed with intricate designs of butterflies and birds, and the round rosewood tables all had candles scented with rose and honeysuckle.

“Sit, sit.” The old woman gestured at the benches, and at the cushions on the floor, where ShiShi promptly made himself at home. Mulan noticed the three empty teacups on the table. Had they been expected?

“What a long day,” the old woman said, reaching for the pot of tea on the table. “Would you pass me your cup?”

Shang shook his head, and Mulan remembered how he’d tried to take her arm in the tower but couldn’t touch her. “I don’t think I can—”

“You can touch anything or anyone that belongs in Diyu,” Lao Lao told him. “These cups, these benches, the flowers in my garden.” She met Mulan’s gaze. “But I’m afraid your companions are off limits, so long as they are still living.”

Hesitantly, Shang picked up the nearest teacup; his skin was so transparent he could see the flowers painted on the porcelain through his shadowy fingers. He passed it