Reflection (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,67

cried. “You’re—”

Grandmother Fa sidled up next to Mulan by the window. Her smile slid into a frown. “What are you doing here, soldier? Go away before I shoo you out.”

The soldier ignored Mulan’s grandmother. “It’s Shang,” he said, trying again. “Don’t you remember me?”

“Ignore the man and come back to dinner,” Grandmother Fa said. “That steamed bun smells delicious.”

“It’s Shang,” the soldier said again, running closer to the house. He tapped on the window. “Please, listen to me.”

Mulan parted the window’s wooden shutters just a little.

“She’s in one of Meng Po’s illusions,” said a new voice. It was deeper, and it seemed to be coming from the stone lion behind the soldier. “She probably can’t see you.”

“I know.” Shang’s voice sounded tense. “Come back with us. You’re in danger here.”

“Danger?” Grandmother Fa snorted. “This is her home. Go away before we call for the guards.” She reached over Mulan and slammed the window shut. The curtains folded over the paper screens. “We should send the intruder away, don’t you think?”

Fa Zhou nodded. His face had become blank as a stone. He got up obediently to follow the order, while Grandmother Fa grabbed Mulan’s wrist, dragging her back to the table.

“Wait.” Mulan twisted away and ran for the window again. Lightning pricked the sky, and it began to rain. Yet the soldier shielded his eyes as if the rain were coming from the ground, not from the sky. As if the rain were sand, not water.

“Shang,” she said. Something about the name brought a flutter to her stomach. “Why am I in danger?”

“Because of her.” Shang pointed at Grandmother Fa. “She’s the Lady of Forgetfulness.” He gritted his teeth, white against the dark shadows of his face. “Did you drink her tea? Is that why you don’t remember me?”

Mulan stared at the cups of tea back on the dining table. “Why should I remember you?”

“We went to battle together—against the Huns,” Shang said urgently. “I trained you.”

“Impossible!” Grandmother Fa tsked. “Stop listening to this idiot, Mulan. Come back to dinner. Your father will take care of him.”

“No!” Thunder rumbled, drowning Shang’s words, so he had to shout, “You called yourself Ping, remember?”

Mulan touched her temples. A little. She remembered being afraid, and hiding among dozens of soldiers. She remembered not wanting to fail.

“We fought together,” Shang continued. “We fought against Shan-Yu, and I was wounded. You came here—you came to Diyu to find me.”

Mulan parted her lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t…”

“You were my friend,” Shang said. He took a step forward, crossing through the window and wall until he was in the house. His shadowy hand reached out to touch Mulan’s arm.

The memories came back in waves. The snow. Mushu. Shoving Yao aside and taking the cannon. Firing it into the mountain. Fighting the Huns. Captain Li Shang, and ShiShi…falling down and down into Diyu.

“Captain?” Mulan whispered. “What are you doing here? You came back for me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind. If you stay, I stay, too.”

“But I thought…”

Shang looked at her bashfully. “I was wrong. Man or woman, you’re still my friend.”

A flood of warmth rushed across Mulan. Then she started, realizing that her family—or rather, the illusions of them—still watched her. Unblinking and unmoving, Fa Zhou and Fa Li sat frozen in their places. Little Brother’s tongue hung out of his mouth, suspended as he tried to bite the bone she’d left for him under the table.

Only Grandmother Fa stood, tapping her foot impatiently.

“You’re not my family,” said Mulan, at last recognizing what had been different about her grandmother. “You’re Meng Po.”

Meng Po’s eyes darkened. Thunder rumbled, then the rain abruptly stopped. “What I said earlier was true, child,” she warned Mulan. “You will never reach the hundredth level. Drink, so you may escape King Yama’s punishment. Drink and stay here. I’ll give you the family you’ve always wanted. The one that loves you and is proud of you.”

“No,” said Mulan. “I won’t drink.” Drawing her sword, she swept it across the table, flinging the teacups and dishes off until they shattered against the wooden floor.

Mulan raised her sword to Meng Po’s throat. “Now let us out.”

The Lady of Forgetfulness touched the glowing blade. Her brows furrowed for an instant, and she looked up at Mulan, appearing more intrigued than angry. Then her expression washed away, becoming unreadable as before. “As you wish. But this was your last chance.”

The walls of her family home flickered and faded. In its place was a vast desert, so empty Mulan could see