Tho, Lien, and Cuong each rested against their respective black walls.
“How long have we been here?” asked Lien.
Cuong coughed. “For me, about seventy years.”
“I’m sorry, Cuong.”
“We all are,” added Tho.
Lien hated the tears in her eyes. Frivolous. Meaningless emotion, but even her will couldn’t stop a few from escaping, and as they did, she thought it better to grieve the butchery than to accept it.
“Lien, Minh is resourceful. You taught him well.”
She nodded, wiped her cheek, and fanned her face with her palm, pretending she felt hot.
“I still don’t know why they haven’t killed me,” said Cuong. “But now that you’re both here, I suppose the reasons are even fewer to keep me alive.”
“Cuong, don’t—”
“No, it’s all right. I can’t live in this body.”
Tho laughed and peeked down at his saggy skin on frail bones. “I understand that sentiment well. But don’t lose hope, son. Your age is only on the outside. Mine, however, is soul-deep.”
Lien closed her eyes and put her head back against the wall. “He’s just a boy.”
“He’s a brave boy,” said Cuong. “I saw what he did on the street when we were looking for …” He stopped and glanced at Tho. “I forgot what we were actually looking for. Did you succeed?”
“We will soon find out,” replied Tho. “But the stories we could tell you.”
“Tell me, please.”
“Not yet. The less you know, the better. Besides, you may not believe us. They’re too fantastical to even ponder.”
As they talked, the shadow of the woman who had clipped Sun Quan and instructed Minh to run appeared in their midst, like a theatrical cue had come to turn. There was no mystical fog or grand entrance, just being. Just there. In between them all, more radiant than real. Their eyes simply adjusted to her like they would to a darkened room after walking in from the piercing sunlight. Lien jumped to her feet. Tho pushed back with his palms and sat at attention. Cuong shook his head a couple times, afraid he hallucinated. The woman played every bit the part of a warrior. Her hair knotted behind her neck. Sword strapped to her back. Dagger on her leather belt.
“Ong Tho.” She revered him with her language, and she bowed her head in reverence. “You do not understand your lineage, do you?”
Tho rubbed his chin under the white strands of his beard, which pointed downward from his face. “I … I’m afraid to speak. These walls have ears.”
“Do not worry. Do you know your lineage?”
“I … I do not understand your question.”
“What do you know of your family?”
“My grandmother was a farmer. She married my grandfather at age sixteen and two decades later moved to Hanoi to open a small silver shop.”
“And who was your great-grandmother on your mother’s side?”
“My great-grandmother?”
“Do you know?” the warrior asked.
“She came from a farming community. Her family grew rice. That is all.”
“So a simple man with a farming heritage grows into a sage of the mystical arts?”
“No…I—”
“Have you ever wondered why the heavens gifted your hands with such deeds?”
“I never considered anything I did as special. I simply …” He paused.
“You simply what?”
“Whatever I was given by my ancestors, I have tried to use honestly, without any favor for myself or family. If I—“
“Yes, I can see that.”
“What do you want, Lady Trieu? I’m an old man. My time here is over. I know that.”
“Lady Trieu?” Cuong responded, his eyes unwavering from her visage.
“Your time is not yet over, Ong Tho. Your great-grandmother never married.”
Tho looked astonished. “No. That’s not true.”
“She had a child, who grew up to be an ordinary farmer, yet from an extraordinary background.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your mother was a mistress. But not as you think. She was sent into hiding, and her story was lost to the past, even from those who lived it.”
“What story?” Tho had pushed himself up, and he pleaded with her with his arms stretched in her direction.
“Your great-grandfather was Tu Duc.”
Tho’s thoughts wandered far off. The words Tu Duc flipped through his mind as if he fingered through the pages of history.
“Tu Duc?”
Lady Trieu didn’t answer.
“Emperor Tu Duc?”
“The final Vietnamese emperor before the French corrupted the lineage. You alone remain from that line. Your blood traces back through time.”
Tho breathed heavily. “That’s impossible. My grandmother grew rice.”
“You know this to be true. You can feel it, can’t you? This is why you’re still alive; your ancestors have been hoping for this day when we would find each other.”
“I—“ The old man, who always had a wise comeback or pithy saying, was speechless.
“You are the chosen overseer of the line. Fate’s choice to help us through this one great challenge. Without you, honorable Tho, I wouldn’t be here. And for us to achieve our goal, you must leave this place.”
“How can we leave?” asked Lien. “We’re stuck here. And my son …”
“Minh. He is free.”
“He’s free? Can we get to him?”
“Not now. It’s far too dangerous.”
“How can we leave?” asked Lien. “We’re inside this prison.”
“Walls always have two sides. You just need a little help to get to the other.”
“But—“
Tho barely heard their conversation. He sifted through the years and wondered of its veracity. His mother had never spoken a word of it. Not even a hint. But how could he doubt the words of the resurrected Lady Trieu standing in front of him?
“If my time isn’t yet over, then where do we go?”
“Take the marble tablets back to the beginning.”
“But I don’t have the tablets anymore.”
She reached into a sachet on her belt, and handed the three marble tablets to Tho.
“Take these back to the beginning.”
“Where did you find them?”
“Minh used them to summon me. But he lost them again as he escaped.”
“Is he alright?” asked Lien with vigor.
“He still has one. Take these to the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
“You will know.”
“How will only three help me? I’ve always had four and—“
“Those on the cusp of survival will find a way.”
“And how …?”
Before he could raise the question of their method of escape, all of the walls lifted into the ceiling. They were alone in a cavernous hall. Fifty yards in front of them was the warehouse and Sun Quan. The warrior turned directly towards them. Lady Trieu squared in his direction and reached behind her to retrieve the sword. She held it downward with its tip resting on the floor. Lien scooted to the other side of Lady Trieu.
“Exit behind me.”
“But we can’t leave Cuong here,” said Lien.
“Go,” Cuong said. “I can’t help anyone now.”
“Do what he says,” said Lady Trieu, without looking back. “Leave Cuong here.”
“But—“
“Leave him. His time hasn’t come yet.”
“What?” asked Lien.
“Lien,” said Tho. “Everything has a purpose. Even a young man’s lame legs. The spirit doesn’t need legs to walk.”
“Leave now!” Lady Trieu yelled. It became apparent why. Sun Quan had moved steadily towards her and was now only ten yards away.
Lien grabbed Tho’s hand, and they retreated as quickly as the old man could move. Cuong watched them and then turned his head back to the mysterious figures facing each other.
“You are even bolder than I imagined.”
Lady Trieu didn’t respond.
“The sword … you have the sword. I expected that.”
“The fools have no idea what they’ve done by releasing you, do they?” Lady Trieu stood firm.
“My dear Trieu, that is not true. They know precisely what they have done. That, my dear, should make you very frightened.”
“I know there is more. There has to be.”
“We all have parlor tricks.”
“I have never been afraid of you.”
“So you help them escape, but do you not think I can find them again? The old man? The boy? What vain games you play! But if we shall play games, let’s play them together.”
He pulsed forward, and she swung her sword past his head as his arms grabbed her around the waist and pushed her downward, almost crushing Cuong at the rear. The old man rolled over as much as he could, while the two wrestled. She still gripped the sword and loosened her grip long enough to gash Sun Quan across the back. He released her and reached around to touch the wound. He yelled as the sword passed by his head, but this time he stopped it in his bare hand—not without pain—but his hand had swollen into a writhing ball of light, which threw the sword out of her grip. It glided along the floor several yards away. The physical blows coming from both of them only affected the other in minimal ways, like an irritation, not a mortal wound. She lunged toward the sword as he unlatched a sharp dagger from his belt. He sliced her three times on the leg, but she moved without flinching and took the sword into her hands, stood to her feet and pointed it at him. She didn’t say anything.
“You’re weak,” he said.
“The weak will be made strong by time and energy.”
“Two things you have very little of.”
He moved towards her. “Cuong,” she said. “Do not give in to your thoughts of despair.”
“Always the encourager,” Sun Quan smiled. “She thinks you still have a purpose.”
“We all have a purpose,” she said. “To vanquish you for good.”
She turned and ran the opposite direction of Tho and Lien. She ran directly toward the Chinese man, her sword out and focused on him. Sun Quan shifted forward and tried to stop her, but her sword slashed him across the chest, giving her just enough time to bring the sword around and impale the Chinese man through the stomach, splattering blood and entrails all over the floor. The man fell to the ground and convulsed as she turned back toward him.
“This is what you can expect, Sun Quan.”
“Oh, my dear Trieu. It is exactly what I hoped for.”
The Chinese man screamed, but as Sun Quan’s shadow covered the dying man, the blood reversed, and crawled back inside him. He put his arms out to stabilize himself, then lifted himself to his feet and stood beside Sun Quan, unharmed, as if nothing had happened. He peered at the lady from the lake with great curiosity, and he lit a cigarette as if he relaxed at home in his living room.
“So this is the one you have spoken of?” he asked without any regard to the stabbing he had just experienced. “She’s spectacular.”
“What are you?” Trieu asked the Chinese man.
The Chinese man laughed. “Do you doubt my humanity? All humanity is to be very much doubted these days. Ask my friend here to see if he agrees.”
“Friend is too generous a word,” said Sun Quan.
“Indeed. Shall we say beneficiary. So now what do we do? A beautiful standoff. I do love it.”
Lady Trieu backed away a step. Lien and Tho had disappeared from sight as had all of the Chinese soldiers. The three of them remained with only a lonely Cuong sitting immobilized at the center of a grand hall as company.
Sun Quan reached his right arm out sideways and opened his palm. A dagger-axe on a wooden pole flew toward him out of the darkness of the walls, and he grasped it firmly in his hand. The axehead had a sharp blade with the image of a dragon on its reverse side. He raised it over his head.
“I’m almost disappointed this has been so easy. I didn’t expect you to be so weak. But I guess that’s what centuries in the water will do to you.”
He swung the dagger-axe at her. It caught the leather strapping around her chest, but she turned in time. It missed her stomach. Her sword crossed in front of her, knocking the dagger-axe away. She lunged forward toward the Chinese man, who this time moved and pulled a pistol from his pocket. He shot twice and ripped two holes into her right shoulder, before it started to close up and heal itself. But it had slowed her down. The dagger-axe swung at her again and dug into her left side before she pulled away, ripping a side of her flesh open. It remained that way as she screamed once, lurched backwards, and twirled away from her attacker towards the destroyed armored carriers.
“Close them,” said Sun Quan to the Chinese man, who punched out a code on his device.
The walls crashed down in front of Lady Trieu, and she would have run head first into the solid wall, but the structure transformed to a wall of moving water. It shifted fluidly and Lady Trieu dove head first into the water and disappeared. Sun Quan pulsed forward and attempted to pass through the water wall, but as Sun Quan touched it, it repelled him backwards, not unlike the water of Hoan Kiem Lake. The Chinese man emptied the rest of his rounds into the water over Sun Quan’s left shoulder. Then he laughed. The water turned back to the smooth, glossy black walls, and as Sun Quan approached it, it opened on command into the next empty cell.
Lady Trieu drifted downward in the center of Hoan Kiem Lake. Her bullet wounds had disappeared completely, but she held her side, still ripped open by the dagger-axe. The head of the turtle emerged from the deep.
“They’ve escaped,” she said.
Her side didn’t bleed; there was just an emptiness. An openness that upset her. The turtle reached his head out, opened its mouth, and licked the wound with its tongue. Lady Trieu closed her eyes as the turtle attended to her in the quietness of the lake.