The next time, Wu Hao left 726 outside. Better to not risk that again, he thought. Nonetheless the need to get a different mission was still the same as it had been the last time.

  "You're late," Uncle Bai grunted. "Explain yourself."

  "A challenge, sir," Wu Hao said. "For the privilege of being a Brother. I won."

  The qi around him shimmered, pulsed, and was then slowly withdrawn.

  Lifting the wine bottle up to his mouth, Uncle Bai threw his neck back, took a deep swig, and burped loudly. When his head came back up, he stared at Wu Hao.

  "You won?" Uncle Bai said, rubbing at his eyes. Then he seemed to realize the question was foolish - if Wu Hao hadn't won, he wouldn't have been able to stand there. He didn't retract the question, though, but instead just stared down Wu Hao as if daring him to say something about the slip.

  "Yes, Uncle."

  "Good," Uncle responded, wiping his mouth with one hand. "See to it that it doesn't happen again. Keep your group in better control next time, or I'll rip away that pin myself."

  "Yes, sir," Wu Hao said. "You would be right to do so. Might makes right."

  Uncle's eyes landed on Wu Hao and lingered there for a moment, to the point where he started to wonder if maybe he'd made a mistake in mentioning that, but then Uncle's gaze snapped away.

  "Correct."

  With that Uncle Bai let it go, apparently unwilling to invest any more mental effort.

  Good. Wu Hao made a mental note of it, remembering that Uncle might be placated simply by his pet phrase. It helped that he was earlier, this time, he figured - there were still people standing around, and maybe that helped blunt Uncle's anger.

  All that said and done Wu Hao still didn't dare relax.

  "You," he said, pointing at a particular group of boys. "Listen up, you shits. Your group's going to be taking a hill tomorrow. There's going to be people there. Kill them before they kill you. Don't show any mercy, because no mercy will be shown to you. Not by the enemy and not by us, either. Anyone who breaks from the ranks will get executed by me personally."

  He stared around the group of young men.

  "Is that clear?" he asked.

  "Yes, Uncle," they all echoed. In response, Uncle Bai grunted.

  "Whatever," he muttered, then waved a hand. "Go."

  The group of others went. Wu Hao looked as they walked away, knowing that they'd probably all die to Xing Zhao's hands. The thought twisted something in his gut, and though he told himself that it was better them than him, it rang hollow even in his own mind.

  "That leaves you," Uncle Bai said, eyes swivelling over to Wu Hao. It was true: theirs was the only group left, and whereas other groups had been recombined into smaller units, no one else had remained to join Wu Hao's group left. In other words, it was him, 720, 723, 729, and 732.

  And - probably - 726.

  "The late comers. The one that got challenged. I handed out the important missions already, so what have I got left?"

  Uncle Bai's eyes squinted as he thought. The silence stretched out, and the longer it went, the more anxiety began to gnaw at Wu Hao's gut. It wasn't just the thought that Uncle Bai's mood might sour and he might die again, but it was also the fact that he was heading out into a complete unknown. He hoped that it wasn't something that guaranteed certain death the way the attempts to take the hill had been, but on the other hand he hoped it was something other than just more useless wasted effort in the camp.

  "You'll come with me," Uncle Bai finally said. He looked a bit bitter as he said it. "You'll slow me down, but hell. Maybe you'll be useful for something."

  Maybe Uncle Bai thought he was doing himself a disservice, but Wu Hao couldn't bring himself to care. He was thrilled, and he might have smiled, if that hadn't given away the game. Instead he bent his neck, appropriately chastened by the earlier rebuke.

  Mentally, though, he made a note. It was clear which way he'd have to take if he wanted to arrive at this moment again. Challenge 726, take his badge, and arrive late. Simple. It was still up in the air as to what the mission actually would be, but if it was something that Uncle Bai had been meant to do by himself then that meant it had to be important.

  "Yes, sir," he said quietly. "How can we assist you?"

  "What does it matter?" Uncle Bai grumbled. He lifted his flask but it appeared to be empty, even if he lifted it upside down. "Just do as I tell you and don't get in my way. If you can't even manage that..."

  Wu Hao said nothing, but just bowed.

  "Whatever. Make way," Uncle commanded. "I'll go grab all I need from my tent. Stay here."

  The boys scattered to the side, and Uncle took a step and a breath, foot striding forward as if he was about to execute a technique and disappear - and then he stopped and turned to Wu Hao again.

  "What did you do with the one who challenged you?" Uncle Bai asked.

  Wu Hao's mind raced. Before he'd even formed a complete thought, he found that he'd already spoken. Uncle Bai's lessons from earlier rang in his mind, so he tried to imbue cruelty in his voice. It was easier than he'd thought it'd be.

  "I did what I had to, uncle," Wu Hao said. Uncle's eyes narrowed, so Wu Hao continued: "I made sure he wouldn't try it again, without it costing Father a useful tool."

  "Good," Uncle Bai mumbled. "Good. Just kill them next time. Don't bother doing anything else."

  "Yes, Uncle. Understood."

  Even as he said it, he wondered if he'd actually kill 726 himself at some point. Despite everything, the other boy had been his Brother, part of the same group. Did that matter? Wu Hao didn't know. He'd felt anger before at 726, when he'd managed to stumble his way into preventing Wu Hao from attempting to strike a killing blow, but that had been then. It'd cooled since. There was only so many times that you could see someone as a corpse before emotions you felt for them took on a weirdly bitter feeling.

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  Uncle Bai took another gulp of his wine flask, and then disappeared into an unsteady flicker of a movement technique. Not the cleanest execution that Wu Hao had ever seen, but then again, he wasn't any judge.

  Wu Hao followed him outside the tent, where everyone else in the group was waiting for his orders.

  "We wait," he announced. "Uncle wishes for us to follow him."

  "Yes, Brother," the others said.

  Turning, he felt 726's eyes burn into his. The other boy had been pushed into the tent and had shaken off 732's helping hand angrily, but he stood under his own power now.

  The giant bruise on his cheek made it clear that he hadn't recovered from the fight yet, and his eyes didn't meet Wu Hao's.

  "You heard him," Wu Hao said, voice quiet. 726 stiffened and his fists clenched.

  "Yes," he said, teeth clenched together. "I did."

  "Should I kill you, then?" Wu Hao asked. "I have his permission, now. You are less than dirt, Brother."

  Wu Hao pretended to almost think about that, then stepped close.

  "Correction," he said. "726. Not Brother. That will take getting used to."

  726's teeth ground together so hard that Wu Hao could almost hear it. Better that he be angry than dead, though. The other boy should thank him.

  He thought about saying so, but instead focused on other things. He checked, quickly and without alerting anyone else, that he still had the knife resting against the crook of his elbow. It'd slipped free slightly and had inflicted several scratches on him, but he could live with those for now.

  This time he hadn't bothered taking the tent pegs. Uncle Bai might miss the knife, but he wouldn't miss those. Probably. Wu Hao didn't feel any desire to test that, not without knowing more about Uncle Bai.

  Besides, he still hadn't managed to have the explosions pointed into specific directions. When the tent pegs burst they burst into every direction, including shredding through his own skin. He'd lost one life fighting Xing Zhao only to kill himself by accident.

  A waft of wine-smelling qi announced that Uncle Bai had returned. He surveyed the scene with a gimlet eye.

  Uncle Bai, Wu Hao noted, seemed mostly to have gone back for his weapon, the same mace that he'd killed 726 and Wu Hao with. Beyond that, Uncle hadn't bothered to go find actual armor. Instead, at Uncle's waist also hung two full new bottles of wine.

  It was clear that Uncle Bai was prepared to fight. Fight what, or how, Wu Hao didn't know, but he'd soon find out, he figured.

  "We're ready, Uncle," Wu Hao said, trying to inject respect into his voice.

  Uncle grunted to make it clear that he'd heard, then turned.

  "Come on," he said. "Don't fall behind."

  He set out without saying anything further, feet blurring into an easy stride that nonetheless gave him the speed of a serious run, even though he looked more or less at ease, though he had to concentrate.

  Wu Hao turned his head.

  "Go!" he commanded, and set out after Uncle Bai. He was already halfway across the little field, moving in a straight line to wherever he was going.

  Feet building speed, Wu Hao ran. There was a short hesitation - he didn't have to wonder long why - and then the rest joined him, both 723's plodding thudding footsteps as well as 729's oddly syncopated run. 732 ran at the end of the pack as he always did, trying to keep his breathing measured and even.

  Wu Hao risked a glance back and saw that 726 was keeping good pace, as well. Normally he ran in front, but today that dubious honor belonged to Wu Hao. Then he turned his head forwards again, not wanting to stumble and break his neck.

  Uncle Bai led them towards the end of the field and off the side of the mountain, where a winding path had been carved out that seemed more fit for goats than humans. For Uncle it wouldn't be a problem, so he didn't slow down.

  Which meant Wu Hao and the others couldn't slow down, either.

  Their feet thundered down the trail, not like Uncle Bai's easy steps but a full-on rush, so fast that Wu Hao worried that he'd miss one of the twisting turns and throw himself off the mountainside by being unable to stop.

  Harder than anything else, though, was trying not to show the way that he actually enjoyed it. They were moving fast, moving recklessly, and if anyone was watching it'd be easy to cut them all down with a single well-placed trap.

  Maybe a trap wouldn't even be necessary. The path had occasional rocks, clumps of grass high enough to touch the sides of their ankles, and occasionally he heard the panicked slithering of a snake they'd startled from sleep. Dawn was peeking across the side of the opposite mountain, providing just enough light to see by, wide strokes of red and orange lighting their way.

  Still, just being allowed to move like that was exhilirating. Wu Hao pushed just a little bit more qi to his feet, then turned as quickly as he could to take the next twist in the trail. Every turn, every stop, every jump to skip some obstacle could have turned his ankle, broken a foot, shattered his legs. Wind blew into his eyes and hair, cold and sweet, stinging his skin and thrumming in his lungs.

  A new battlefield, Wu Hao thought. A new opportunity to die.

  To his surprise, he was looking forward to it.