and snuffed out the ends. Mulan counted the rhythm of the demon’s attacks. When she gathered enough courage, she waited for the rest between blasts, then ran.
Keep his attention away from Shang and ShiShi, she thought frantically as she dashed across the summit. Give them time to climb back to safety.
Huoguai’s hands flared, hurling streams of fire her way. The ground quaked again. Mulan couldn’t afford to stumble. She widened her stride, pushing through the sharp twinges of pain in her ankle and running until she reached the end of the Cauldron’s rim.
Then the blasts of fire stopped. The glow in Huoguai’s black eyes disappeared. His eyes darkened, hollow and cold. He lowered his hand, and instead his body shook in laughter. The wind rippled, and the sky thundered.
Mulan backed up until she stood on the brink of the Cauldron. One more step back, and she’d tumble into the river. Not good.
The river smothered the Cauldron’s mouth, a giant crater in the center of the peak, but smaller craters had formed along the rim. They bubbled and spurted now with bright, hot lava.
Mulan stumbled forward, her balance wobbling as the ground trembled.
Demon soldiers surged up from the craters and rocks! They barged onto the volcano, surrounding Mulan and closing in on her.
Unlike King Yama’s or Meng Po’s demons, the fire demon’s soldiers wore no armor. Their faces were scorched red like Huoguai’s, but their eyes were gray and vacant, their noses hollow—like skulls. Born from the Cauldron to do Huoguai’s bidding, they looked more like monsters than animals—their chests bore scabs and burns like art or markers of identification. Some carried swords, others carried spears, and more than a few carried thick chain whips. The closest demon lashed his whip against the rock, unleashing a gust of searing debris that flew into Mulan’s face.
“Ahh!” Mulan cried as the debris stung her cheeks. She blocked her face with her hand, then glanced back at the edge of the Cauldron. The river cut off her path down the mountain.
Nowhere to run. But if she stayed here, could she fight the demons and win—while having time to reach the pillar?
The demons sneered at her. “Not even the ghosts come here,” one growled. “What brings you, mortal soldier? Are you in the mood to die?”
“He looks afraid. Look at the quaking legs. A bit scrawny.”
“Don’t complain. It isn’t often Huoguai gives us a feast.”
“I’m going to slice his arms and drink his blood.”
“I’m going to roast him on a spit.”
“Save me his eyeballs. I love eyeballs. It’s been so long since I’ve had some.”
“Too long,” his comrade agreed. “The last one carried a sword, too.”
“More like a toothpick.”
“I could use a new toothpick.”
Mulan thought fast. The only way off this volcano was to jump off. Even if there weren’t streams of lava and jagged, toothy precipices awaiting her below, leaving the Cauldron wouldn’t have been an option. She needed to get across the river.
Not far away, she heard Shang’s lion guardian scraping his way up the opposite side of the mountain. She could barely see him; the river’s murky waters separated them like a wall. Smoke clung to his ruffled fur, and his sharp nails cut across the black mountain face.
“ShiShi!” Mulan cried.
ShiShi lifted his head when he heard her. His eyes widened when he saw the demons behind her.
“Behind you!” the lion yelled. “Use your sword!” Wind muffled his next words. All she could hear was something about “magic” and “demons.”
One of the demon’s chains wrapped over Mulan’s waist, pulling her away from the edge. She rocked back on her heels, digging them into the dirt to slow herself from being dragged.
She hacked at the metal chain with her blade. Tossing its remains on the ground with a clatter, she stared defiantly at the demons. She didn’t know which one had tried to pull her back, but their message was clear. Time to fight.
She staggered to regain her balance and tightened her grip on her sword. The hilt was warm from the fire and heat. The characters engraved on the steel shone.
Use your sword, ShiShi had said. What was that supposed to mean? She’d been fighting with it all this time. What did she need to do differently?
Mulan rubbed the steam off her blade. “The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all,” she murmured, reading the quotation engraved on it again. The words didn’t give her any secret key to defeating the demons.
She returned her attention to