Long-beaked Heart Hunters, it turned out, kind of looked like emus from Earth. They stood a foot or so taller than me and ran across the grass on long, swift legs that were covered in gleaming scales. They had heavy bodies covered in glossy, black and red feathers and short wings that they held out as they ran, probably for stability. Their necks were sinuous and supported a birdlike head with a two-foot-long, sharply pointed beak that had probably given them their name, and they had a blood-red crest of feathers jutting up from their skull.

That was where the similarity ended, though. As the things raced toward us, they leaned forward, opening their long beaks and screaming out a battle cry that sounded like something from a dinosaur movie. The power of their screech whipped toward us, bending the grass in its passage, and I grunted as it slammed into my chest. I tried to lean into the pressure, but it pushed me back several steps, and I just barely managed to hold my balance.

The woman just stood there, letting the sound pass around her, her sheer garments and glossy hair whipping in the breeze. She seemed utterly unfazed and stood almost perfectly relaxed, her hands loose at her sides. After the scream passed, though, she shifted her feet and lifted her hands – and suddenly vanished, reappearing in front of the rushing birds. I blinked in surprise. I had no idea how she’d gotten there, but I certainly hadn’t seen her move. One second, she was standing beside me; the next, she was in front of the birds. Her figure blurred, and three of the creatures went flying, one with an obviously broken neck. Again, I didn’t really see her attacks, but somehow, she’d taken out three of them in an instant.

Another scream caught my attention, and I turned to see that one of the things had gotten past the woman and was rushing at me. I set my feet as it lunged forward, snapping its beak toward my chest. I smacked the palm of my left hand against the side of the beak and twisted to my right, then drove my right fist into the thing’s skull, wishing as I did that I’d thought to put on my brass knuckles. The creature’s lunge went past me, but I hissed as its razorlike beak opened a gash on my palm. My fist cracked into its skull, and a flash of pain raced through my hand, but the blow seemed to stagger the monster slightly. I pushed with my left hand and stepped back, getting out of the way of its rush, but its wing clipped me as it passed and knocked me to the ground. I rolled to my feet as the thing looped around, making a long, wide turn to reorient on me. It seemed that the bird was fast but not particularly agile.

It rushed at me again, and this time I swept its beak aside with my left forearm, then dropped my right elbow onto its skull. It stumbled from the blow, and I grabbed its neck in both hands and yanked downward, stepping rapidly back and twisting the neck around to the side. Its beak dropped downward, and I drove it into the soft earth. The creature’s momentum carried it forward, and a loud crack echoed from its spine as its neck snapped. I released it and stood, looking around to see if there were more of the creatures.

There weren’t – at least, not that were alive. In the time it had taken me to kill that one monster, she’d slaughtered the other nine. Their bodies were scattered across the hillside, all misshapen from shattered bones and crushed limbs. She didn’t even look like she’d broken a sweat, and she was watching me with an expression that I could only call resignation.

“I have not seen someone struggle so much with one Long-beaked Heart Hunter,” she said, shaking her head. “Fortunately, it seems that you have some basic skills. That is better than nothing.”

I wanted to protest, but I realized that I really couldn’t. I’d gotten lucky to kill the one I did; she took out nine of them with ease. By those standards, what I’d just done really wasn’t very impressive. As I realized that, a wave of something like despair swept over me. I was supposed to be some kind of hero, coming to save these people, wasn’t I? How would that be possible if I couldn’t even hold a candle to this woman? Sure, it was possible that the woman was some kind of savant, unusually powerful for this world – but I didn’t think so. It was more likely, in fact, that she was fairly normal, and I was just hopelessly weak compared to everyone in this place.

“You’ve only been here for an hour, John,” Sara’s voice rang in my head. “Give it time. Once you start to understand this world, you might be amazed by how quickly you catch up.”

I certainly hoped so. If that wasn’t the case, then I was going to fail the very first mission I’d ever gone on.

“We must keep moving,” the woman interrupted my thoughts. “The bodies of these creatures will attract true hunters, and they will not be so easy to defeat. If a Red-maned Tree Leaper were to find us…” She shook her head.

“Do I have to ride in the basket?” I asked with a sigh. “Can’t I just walk? I promise, I won’t try to run.”

“Considering how clumsily you move, I would hope not, as I would be forced to catch you and punish you,” she said confidently. “However, it is also probable that you move too slowly to keep up with me. We must reach my family’s farm before nightfall, and we are still at least sixty li from it. I must carry you.”

Again, I wanted to protest, but remembering how swiftly she’d moved during the fight, I really couldn’t. There was no way I could move that fast. I didn’t think she was running at that speed, but then, I had no way of knowing how fast we were moving while I was inside the basket. The bouncing made it seem like we were plodding along, but that could have been deceiving. Resigned, I stepped on the large, wooden wheel attached to the side of the contraption and climbed back inside. Almost immediately, we began to move, bouncing and rocking gently as we did.

“The movement is deceptive, John,” Sara suddenly appeared in the basket. “Sixty li is about the same as fifteen miles, and she said that you’ll be arriving in less than an hour.”

“Fifteen miles per hour isn’t that fast,” I argued. “I could run faster than that, even back on Earth!”

“Probably, but could you keep up that speed for a full hour? She’s running the equivalent of a three-minute mile. Could you do that?”

No, I couldn’t. I’d never run a mile in five minutes, much less three. That would be like running flat-out for the full mile, and then keeping that pace for fifteen miles continuously. No human could do that…but then, it seemed that this woman wasn’t really human. Then again, neither was I, any more.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes at that thought. None of this felt real. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was in a coma from blood loss, and this was my dream. That was as likely as the idea that I could travel through a multiverse by walking through doors. It was more likely, really. This was probably all some kind of strange dream, and I was in a hospital somewhere, on a ventilator, stuck in a coma.

I lifted up my injured hand and realized that no matter how much I wanted that to be the case, it couldn’t possibly be. If I’d fallen unconscious from blood loss, I’d be dead already. My pursuers wouldn’t have called an ambulance for me; they’d have put two in my skull and made sure I was dead before they left. They might even have taken my body as a trophy. Either this was my afterlife, or everything the old lady had told me was true. Those were really the only two explanations that made sense.

I rode in silence, my thoughts drifting aimlessly, until the basket stopped moving again and the top lifted. The sky overhead was darker than it had been the last time, and when I rose to stand, I scanned the horizon. I hadn’t really gotten a chance to look around me before, and I took the moment to try and gather my bearings. Off in the distance, at the edge of the horizon, the sun was sinking below a line of jagged mountain peaks, staining their snowy sides purple and red. That made that direction west, which allowed me to orient myself a little better. Another set of mountains rose to the north, these gray and tall, with their peaks vanishing into a layer of scudding clouds that seemed to hover around them without moving. To the south, the land sloped downward. The grasslands continued for a long distance in that direction, ending at a wall of dark green that I guessed was a forest or jungle. To the east, the hills continued to rise, the land rolling upward in waves as far as I could see.

We were stopped atop a hill that overlooked a wide basin. A stream wound around the hill and spread out in the basin, turning into a marsh or swamp – I never knew the difference between those, really. All that mattered was that the basin was filled with a thin sheet of water. Rows of muddy soil rose from the water, and lines of bright, green plants filled those rows. The basin was crisscrossed with thin, wooden slats, about an inch wide, the purpose of which I couldn’t quite fathom.

A low house that looked to be made of a bamboo frame with linen cloth stretched around it dominated the hilltop. A second building with a stacked stone wall stood off to one side, while a third building made entirely of the mottled bamboo rested to the other side. The door to the largest house stood open, and a child whose age I guessed to be about ten stood in the doorway, staring at the woman and I with wide, dark eyes. The kid was dressed in a simple, linen shirt and pants, and with their narrow body and chin-length hair, I couldn’t tell their gender at a glance.

“Jing!’ the child spoke in a clear voice that didn’t really help me decide if they were a boy or a girl. “You’re back! And you brought someone!”

“Jia, dearest sister,” the woman whose name I supposed was Jing sighed affectionately, “your statement of the obvious is as accurate as always. Tell father that I bring a defeated opponent.”

“Jing brings an honored foe!” the little girl shouted, turning on her heels and darting into the house – moving, I noticed, with the same fluid grace and swiftness that Jing did. If even this kid was faster and stronger than me, I was going to lose it.

“Come down, strange one,” Jing said easily. “Wait here for my father, while I put away the wagon.”

“I have a name, you know,” I muttered as I climbed out of the wagon and dropped down to the ground again.

Jing grimaced at me as she watched me move and shook her head. “You move like an overfed Pink-skinned Mud Dancer,” she sighed. “And I am certain you have a name, but you must find out your student name when father decides you have earned it.”

“Student name?” I asked.

“Yes. Once you have earned the right to be considered a student, you will receive your student name. I warn you: it will be simple and not at all descriptive. Until you have satisfied Father, though, you will not receive the right to a full name. Once he agrees that you have progressed to adulthood, you will be able to use your own name once more.”

I simply shrugged. I hadn’t used my real name since leaving home, so being given a new name didn’t really bother me. I went through names the way most people went through toilet paper, and for a similar reason. Names were useful, but only once. After I’d used it, I wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible and forget all about whatever detritus clung to it. I realized that I’d probably have to adopt a new name in every world I entered, assuming I ever made it out of this one.

Jing walked off, dragging the wagon without seeming effort, and I watched her walk away without realizing I was doing it. She moved with incredible grace and ease, probably without even meaning to, and her feet seemed barely touching the ground. She was walking easily at my jogging speed without even trying, and she hadn’t seemed sweaty or winded after what Sara had said was a fifteen-mile trip. It was amazing, and despite myself, I was profoundly jealous. If I’d been able to move like that back on Earth, I’d have been the greatest assassin in the entire world, probably in all of history…

Something struck my chest with the force of a baseball bat, and I gasped as I fell backward, landing on my back hard. I rolled instinctively with the fall and came to my feet, my hands up in a defensive posture and my feet wide. I looked around until my eyes fell on a man standing just outside the doorway to the house. The man was short, probably an inch shorter than me, and I wasn’t a big guy myself. He was dressed in a white, silk vest and matching pants that looked far too nice for such a simple farm. His exposed arms were muscular but not extraordinarily so, and the hair on his head was black with gray at the temples.

The man stared at me and nodded. “Decent combat instincts,” he said in a thin voice. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked around me, looking me up and down. If Jing moved with grace, this man flowed like oil across the ground. He reminded me of a hunting cat, lithe and deadly, and I shuddered involuntarily. “Obviously, you have some training in fighting; just as obviously, you are a great fool.”

“A fool?” I repeated, my mind whirling. I couldn’t seem to process what was happening, and his words didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t think I’d done anything foolish. “What do you mean?”

“A fool, for only a fool would be admiring a man’s daughter in that fashion beneath her father’s gaze.” His eyes were hard.

“I – I wasn’t looking at her like that,” I spluttered in protest. Did this guy really think I was checking out his daughter? “I wouldn’t…”

“Are you saying she is not beautiful?” he demanded, seeming to make a 180-degree conversational turn in an instant. That shift actually jarred me out of my disbelief, and my mind caught up to the situation.

“I’m saying that she strikes me as being far too dangerous for a man to consider her like that,” I said as I came back on an even keel. I’d had too many shocks in a short time, and my brain was struggling to keep up, but I felt like I had my balance back at the very least. “I was admiring how well she moved and wishing that I moved like that. If I could, I would have been unstoppable back on – the place I come from.” The end of my explanation was a bit lame, but the answer seemed to satisfy the man.

“That is a wise way to think of her,” he nodded. “I understand that she defeated you in a duel.”

“It wasn’t much of a duel,” I admitted. “I barely had time to think before she kicked me in the head and knocked me out.”

The older man frowned. “Truly? She defeated you with a single blow?” He stepped forward, moving so swiftly that I couldn’t even react, but instead of attacking, he placed a hand on my chest. His face creased with a wince. “Your meridians are filthy,” he said, shaking his head. “Your dantian is empty, and you are utterly closed off to the heavenly power. Your body is coarse and unrefined, and your spirit…” He paused. “Your spirit is the only redeemable thing about you. It is the spirit of a warrior, trapped in this vessel of corruption and filth.”

He stepped back and placed his hand back behind his back. “I have seen worse. I can teach you; however, you must agree to do what I say, as I say it. It does not matter if you understand. If I instruct you, you will follow those instructions or be punished. Is that clear?”

“Yes…” I only got out that word before something smashed my chest again, knocking me backward once more. I hadn’t seen the man move, and when I rolled to my feet, he stood in the same place.

“You will answer yes or no questions with a nod or headshake,” he instructed. “You will otherwise speak only when directed to by a member of this family. Is that clear?”

I nodded my head, rubbing my chest. I was going to have a bruise these, I was sure of it. Nothing felt broken, though, and I had a feeling that had been very deliberate. The man probably could have killed me without a second thought if he’d really wanted. Fortunately, it seemed that he’d agreed to teach me, instead.

“You learn quickly. Good. That will make things easier for both of us.” He looked over to the side, and I followed his gaze to see Jing standing there. Her head was bowed, and her hands were clasped before her chest. “Daughter. I am not displeased with you.”

“Thank you, Shifu,” she bowed low to the man.

“You are welcome. Have your new servant report to me in the morning before first light.” He looked back at me, his eyes gleaming. “Tomorrow, we will see what this one is truly made of.”

I shouted and rolled to my feet as something cold and wet splashed over me, soaking both me and the thin, reed mat I’d been given to sleep on – assuming you could call it sleeping. I blinked rapidly and scanned the room I was in instinctively, quartering it and being sure to check behind me. There, I saw Jing standing in the doorway of the bamboo outbuilding I’d been told to sleep in, holding a bucket in her hand and faintly backlit by a dim, gray sky. She was still wearing those silk garments from the day before, and even the wan light trickling in behind her passed cleanly through her clothes and made it look like she was wearing nothing at all. That image – and the fact that I’d just woken up – caused my body to have a reaction that being soaked in cold water normally took care of.

Jing either didn’t notice my response or chose not to comment on it, though. “Wake up, lazy one,” she said in a commanding voice. “Dawn is but an hour off, and my father awaits you.”

As the shock and adrenaline rush of being woken up like that wore off, my body began to speak to me loudly, telling me of needs far more urgent than the one it had just been contemplating. “Umm…I need to use the bathroom, first, if that’s okay,” I said.

“Bath room? You wish to bathe?” She shook her head. “Do not be foolish. Father will certainly not wait for that.”

“No, not an actual bath…a restroom. You know, a toilet.”

“You were just resting, and I do not know that last word,” she said curiously. “You must come from far off, indeed, as my father suspects.”

“You have no idea,” I groaned. “I have to pee, Jing. To expel liquid waste from my body.”

“Ah, yes, I had forgotten that those with clogged meridians become overfilled with corruption,” she shook her head. “It has been long since any of our family needed to do such a thing. However, I believe the privy pit still stands at the base of the hill.” She stepped back and pointed down the slope, presumably the way we’d come, to where a single boulder stood at the bottom of the hill. “You may rid yourself of corruption there.”

I wiped my face and hurried down the hill, ducking behind the boulder. A hole had been dug in the ground there, and an old, rusted shovel was stuck in the earth beside it. I performed my necessary functions, using a handful of grass to clean up as best I could – not a fun thing, let me tell you – then trudged back up the hill to the top, where Jing was waiting for me. I stopped before her and did some quick stretching exercises, loosening my tight back and shoulders. She just watched me, her face etched with disapproval.

“Your muscles are tired before the day has even begun?” she asked.

“Maybe you’re used to sleeping on hard clay in a mad scientist’s laboratory,” I grumbled softly. “I’m not, sorry.” The bamboo outbuilding, as it turned out, was some sort of lab. Its only furnishings were heavy tables stacked with glass beakers, spirals of copper tubing, cylinders of some silvery metal that looked like steel but was much softer, and four cauldrons of different metals, two of which I recognized as cast iron and bronze.

She shook her head. “I do not sleep. I meditate. Once you have stepped fully upon the Heavenly Path, you shall do the same.” She turned away from me. “Now come. Father waits for you, and you will not keep him waiting or we shall both suffer.”

“Why would you suffer?” I asked as I fell into step behind her, deliberately forcing my gaze to focus on the back of her head and not the back of her…other parts. Even if those other parts were highly visible through the silk. “I’m the one making you late.”

“I am your keeper,” she said in a baffled voice. “You are my responsibility, and it is my duty to see you fully trained.”

“You make me sound like a pet,” I muttered.

“A what?” she replied in a curious voice.

“A pet. You know, an animal that you care for. Something like a dog or cat – or even a horse.”

“I do not know of those beasts, not that it matters,” she shrugged. “No one would take a beast into their home for any reason.”

“Not a monster, like those things we fought last night.” Or, more correctly, that she fought, if I were being honest with myself. “Something harmless, or something that you could train to help you here at the farm.”

“I have never heard of a harmless beast, strange one, and I have never met one that did not immediately try to kill and eat me, so I do not know how one might be trained.” She shook her head. “You have odd ideas. The place you come from must be far, indeed.”

“Farther than you can imagine,” I sighed, feeling a sudden stab of homesickness. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I had the best life back on Earth. I had to hide my identity, I couldn’t get close to anyone in anything but a professional manner or I would be risking their life, and my job was pretty stressful. Still, I understood my life back there; I knew how Earth worked. This place was utterly alien to me. A world where there were no harmless animals, where everything considered humans a food source? I wondered how humanity – or whatever these people were – had survived on this world at all.

“Perhaps you can tell me about it another time,” she said off-handedly. “For now, though, you must go to father and begin your training.”

She stopped and pointed. I’d been keeping an eye on where we were walking, of course – I always watched everything around me, a habit that had kept me from becoming very dead more times than I could count – so I wasn’t surprised to find that we were standing on the slope leading down to the marshy basin I’d seen last night. I was surprised that she was pointing down toward it, though.

“He’s out there, in the mud?” I asked.

“No, look farther. Across the paddy, to the other side.”

I peered out into the pre-dawn darkness, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the muddy fields and the wooden lattice hovering above them. I shrugged; there was no harm in taking her word for it. “Okay, so we have to walk through the mud to reach him, though, right?”

“No, foolish one. Stay atop the walkway, and you will remain dry and clean. I will show you.” Jing stepped down the slope, and as she walked, I noticed a series of round, brown protuberances sticking out of the muddy hillside, spread out a bit wider than a normal walking pace. She stepped lightly across the tops of these, seeming almost to leap from bump to bump until she reached the wood below. She moved out onto the slat without hesitating, and her feet glided over the top of the thin beams like she was running along a trampoline. She vanished into the darkness, but I heard her voice call out from the distance.

“Simply do as I have done, strange one!”

“Seriously?” I said, staring down at the thin rails of wood. “I don’t think that’s possible.” Even so, I set out down the hill, stepping on top of the first of the rounded protrusions. As soon as I stepped onto it, I almost slid right off. The bumps were actually stones, polished until they were smooth as glass and slick with morning dew and mud. I steadied myself and took a big step to the next one, nearly sliding off again but managing to catch my balance. I made my unsteady way down the slope, slipping and sliding but never quite falling. While I had no idea how Jing moved the way she did, I wasn’t exactly a clumsy oaf. Back on Earth, I was considered amazingly fast and nimble. Obviously, I wasn’t on Earth anymore, but most of the skills seemed to have transferred over.

When I reached the edge of the swamp – what Jing had called the paddy, which I guess meant something like rice was growing in it – I examined the closest wooden rail. I quickly realized that what I thought was a thin slat was actually the narrow side of a wooden plank, one that was about eight inches or so across and an inch and a half wide. That explained how Jing had run across it without breaking it – although it didn’t explain how she’d basically bounced along without even wobbling. I thought I could manage to make it across, since it was basically just a sturdier tightrope, and I’d walked those before, but I wasn’t going to be prancing along the damn thing, either.

As it turned out, I was wrong. The first fifty feet or so, I was fine. I took my time, looked out ahead instead of down – you never want to look down, or the weight of your head will pull you forward and mess with your balance – and placed one foot carefully in front of the other. At first, that was all it took. As I got farther out, though, I realized that the whole lattice wasn’t really anchored into the swamp below. It just hung there, and the farther I was from the shore, the more it swayed and moved with each step. Even then, I was doing okay…until a gust of wind swept out of nowhere and rocked the entire framework.

The marsh below me was wet, cold, and muddy, but fortunately, it wasn’t very deep. I managed to roll with my fall, so I wasn’t hurt, but I did splash into six inches of muddy water and sink into three more inches of mud beneath it. Mud splattered across my face; grit stung my eyes and blinded me; nasty, fetid water that was probably teeming with dysentery and typhoid splashed into my mouth. I rolled to my feet, utterly drenching myself, and spat furiously to get the mud and water from my mouth. Once I’d wiped my eyes clear, I stared down at myself.

I was coated with mud. Every inch of me dripped dark brown fluid, and I was sure my face and hair were equally saturated. I looked and felt disgusting. There was one upside, though; I was so utterly foul that there was no point in trying to use the lattice anymore. I started to stride through the paddy, but I only made it two steps before a voice that I recognized from last night called out into the stillness.

“Back atop the walkway, filthy one,” Jing’s father’s voice echoed in the darkness. I stared out into the gray pre-dawn and seriously considered ignoring the man, but I figured if I did that, he’d probably make things worse for me than falling off the lattice a few more times would be.

To my credit, I only fell once more, when another wind gust made the whole thing shudder. That time, I actually held my balance against the first breeze, but a second, stronger rush of air made the frame sway like a rope bridge in a hurricane, and I couldn’t possibly stand upright through that. I took another tumble into the mud, but it was my last one. After that, whenever the wind gusted, I crouched down and grabbed the rail with my hands, riding it out with a lot less difficulty. Eventually, I made it across and practically collapsed on the other side, my chest heaving and my legs trembling.

“Why am I so tired?” I panted silently. “I run six miles a day! That should have been a cake walk!”

“You RAN six miles a day,” Sara’s voice corrected. “On Earth, in a totally different body. This body hasn’t run a mile in its admittedly short life. Plus, you still haven’t adapted to this world, so you’re going to struggle for a bit. Give yourself some time to adjust, John.”

While that made sense, it didn’t make getting back up and trudging up the hill on the other side of the paddy any easier. I forced myself to push through the tiredness, to ignore my growling stomach, and to climb to the very top of the hill, because of course, the very top was where the old man was waiting for me. He stood with his hands behind his back, his face utterly expressionless, with Jing a couple steps behind him, standing in that weird position she always took around him with her hands clasped and her head bowed.

“That was perhaps the most pathetic demonstration of coordination I have ever witnessed,” the man shook his head with a sigh. He looked me up and down, shaking his head. “You are filthy. Draw a bucket of water and rinse yourself.”

“A bucket of water?” I repeated, then looked past him and saw a ring of stones set into the ground, with what looked like a mechanical hand pump jutting up from it. It was down at the bottom of the hill, of course, because nothing could just be easy. “Fine.” I snatched up the bucket that was resting by Jing’s feet and plodded back down the hill. The pump was heavy and hard to work, but eventually, I managed to fill the gallon bucket with water. I lifted it up and poured it over my head. The water was icy cold, but it felt good to rinse the mud out of my hair and away from my face. I drew another bucket and repeated the motion, this time pouring the water over my clothes and rinsing most of the mud out.

I returned to the hilltop and stood before the older man. “Is that better?”

“It will suffice.” He turned and looked back at Jing. “I will see to your charge, daughter. You may begin your chores.”

“Yes, Shifu,” she bowed to him, then practically ran down the hilltop, pumped the bucket full of water much faster than I had, and raced back over the hill, out onto the latticework over the muddy field, still moving like she was running across smooth, flat ground.

I stared at her, and I guess some of my awe must have shown in my face. Not only was she running across that moving, swaying path, she was carrying a bucket of water that had to weigh ten pounds, easily. The weight wasn’t a big deal, but it would shift her center of gravity, pulling her off-balance. That should have forced her to take her time or at least slowed her down a bit. Obviously, it didn’t, and that went against every law of physics I thought I knew.

“How the hell did she do that?” I whispered in amazement.

“That is among the least of things I can teach you,” the man said from behind me, and I turned to glance at him over my shoulder. “From your expression of astonishment, I believe it is safe to assume that none walk the Heavenly Path in your native land. Is this correct?”

“You got that right, old man,” I shook my head. Suddenly, I found myself lying on the ground, my ears ringing and stars flashing in my vision. The side of my face throbbed, and my jaw ached intensely. Something had just hit my face…and I hadn’t even seen whatever did it. I rose unsteadily to my feet and glanced around, trying to spot what had just smacked my jaw.

“The first lesson is on proper forms of address,” the man said calmly, still standing in the exact, same position. “You may address me as ‘Shifu’ or ‘Teacher’. You will address my daughter as ‘Mistress’, as she is your master during this time. Is that understood?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, rubbing my cheek. I’d no sooner spoken than something slammed into my stomach and knocked every cubic inch of air from my lungs. I gasped and heaved, dropping to my knees and trying to regain my breath. My vision started to narrow before I managed to suck in a gaping mouthful of air. I immediately gagged, and part of me was glad that I hadn’t eaten anything yet that morning, as it would have all been splattered on the grass if I had. Instead, all that came up was a thin stream of bile and watery stomach acid. I gasped another breath and spat, trying to clear the taste from my mouth. Intellectually, I knew that the old man had just hit me. However, I hadn’t so much as seen his weight shift, much less tracked his movement. He’d literally hit me faster than I could see.

“We will try that once more,” he said. “Is that understood?”

I coughed, clearing my throat. “Yes…Teacher,” I gasped out. My stomach ached and throbbed, and my head swam, but it was clear enough that I understood the mistake I’d made. Honestly, the old man wasn’t that different from some of the sergeants I’d met back in the service. Of course, I’d left the army for a reason…

“Much better.” The man sank down into what I recognized as a lotus position, his legs crossed before him, feet wedged up on his thighs. His movement was so smooth it almost looked like he’d melted into that posture, as if he didn’t have bones to impede his flexibility. “Sit before me.”

I staggered to my feet and practically limped over to him, then settled in the grass in front of him. I wedged my feet awkwardly into position, my knees and ankles protesting at the hyperflexion. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t painful, either.

“Close your eyes,” he directed, and I hesitated before following suit. I didn’t like having my eyes closed, and my instincts screamed that I was making myself vulnerable. At the same time, I rationalized that keeping my eyes open hadn’t exactly helped me avoid the man’s blows, and not closing my eyes might draw another from him. I was filled with nervous energy as I clamped my eyes shut, though, and I longed to open them and scan my surroundings.

“Take a deep breath,” the man told me. That was easy, so I did it. “More slowly. See the air filling your lungs, stretching them out and drawing impurities from your blood into them. Exhale, slowly. Picture the corruption in your body leaving through your nostrils to be reabsorbed by the world.”

I couldn’t quite imagine what he was asking me to, but I kept trying, breathing in and out, imagining some sort of smoke or dark mist filling my lungs and drifting out when I exhaled. “Continue as I speak,” the man instructed. “Focus on your breathing, not my words. Breathe.”

Continuing to breathe was easy enough, so I kept at it. After all, not breathing was pretty unhealthy, so I was motivated to do as the old man asked. The slow pace was hard to maintain, and I wanted to gasp for breath a few times, but I worked at it until my heart rate slowed a bit, and the relaxed pace became easier to maintain.

“It is clear that you come from one of the great cities,” the man spoke, forcing me to divide my attention between my breathing and what he was saying. He’d instructed me to ignore him, but again, that went against everything I knew. Fortunately, I was an excellent actor, so I was able to listen to him without seeming like I was. At least, I hoped so.

“Life in the cities is one of ease and shelter,” he continued. “You live under the blanket of protection offered by the ruling Clan, and beneath that shelter, your spirit has been encouraged to wither and atrophy. Fortunately, you were able to escape their clutches before your spirit died entirely.”

Well, that certainly didn’t sound good. I wondered if that was the reason for the imbalance in this world. Maybe I’d need to travel to a city and search there…

“Do not lose focus!” the man’s words were accompanied by a light blow to my chest, one that rocked me back slightly but didn’t really hurt. I hurriedly began to think about my breathing again. Air in, good. Air out, bad.

“As you were sheltered from the true way, we will need to start your education as if you were a child. First, you must know that this world, our world, is one of danger. It is a crucible, a place where the weak are crushed and the strong purified. To become strong, you must walk the Heavenly Path. There is no other way to protect yourself from the dangers the world will throw at you.”

I wanted to ask him a dozen different questions. What kind of dangers was he talking about? What was this Heavenly Path? Was it martial arts, magic, or both? The questions went on, but I didn’t voice one of them. I wasn’t supposed to be listening. I was supposed to be breathing. So, I kept breathing and let him speak without interrupting.

“We will speak more of the Path, but for now, you must understand yourself. The life you have lived to this point has been a worldly one. It has left its mark upon you, filling you with the world’s corruption, trapping your spirit within the shell of your body. To truly know the Path, your spirit must break free of its prison, and that is what we will do first. This process will be painful, and it may take weeks of effort, but without it, you can do nothing else.”

I heard a faint sound, and the old man’s voice suddenly sounded like it was coming from above me. “Rise to your feet, child of the earth,” he told me. I opened my eyes and scrambled to my feet to see him standing before me, holding a shovel. “Your first task is this. I require a hole be dug into this hilltop. It must be as deep as your waist, and wide enough that you cannot touch the sides. When you have finished this task, a meal will be waiting for you back at the house.”

I stared at the shovel, then reached out and took it, resigned. I’d seen enough kung fu movies to know that training always started with menial tasks like this one. They were designed to make the person stronger, to work muscles that they might never have used, and to prepare the person for learning the actual martial art. I assumed this was the same thing. I didn’t see how digging would help with martial skills, but then, the student never understood that at the beginning.

“Yes, teacher,” I sighed. “Anywhere in particular you want it dug?”

“Where you stand will be sufficient. You may begin.”

Fortunately for me, the ground here was soft, and once I got through the thick, tangled layer of grass roots, it was easy to move. Even so, the sun rose in the sky, beating down on my panting form as I labored beneath it. The breezes that had hurled me from the lattice earlier were nowhere to be found, even though atop the hill, they should have been a lot more prevalent. Sweat poured from my forehead and soaked my clothing, and I was forced to stop and plod down the hill to the well more than once to stave off potential dehydration.

It took me all morning, and the sun was almost directly overhead by the time I jammed the shovel into the mound of dirt I’d excavated and climbed from the hole I’d made. I walked back down the hill to the well and – lacking a bucket – splashed water from the pump over my head and chest as best I could. My arms, shoulders, and back ached, and my hands burned from the blisters I’d picked up, but I’d finished the job, at least. That meant that I could eat, and I was starving!

The air remained still as I crossed the latticework carefully and slowly back to the main house, so I managed to stay out of the mud. As I crossed, I saw Jing and another woman that I guessed was her mother moving along the wooden paths, both of them practically dancing along the narrow beams and seemingly unfazed by either the heat or the swaying of the frame. I shook my head; I still had no clue how they did that, but hopefully, I was on my way to learning.

When I reached the house, I found the younger daughter waiting for me, carrying a wooden tray with a bowl and what looked like a hunk of bread on it. “Your meal is ready, strange one,” the girl said in her little, piping voice.

I took the tray and glanced down. The bowl held some sort of brownish grain that looked vaguely like extremely long rice, soaking in a liquid that reminded me of beef broth. I could see all sorts of vegetables floating in it, and it had a slightly spicy scent to it that wasn’t bad. Not that it mattered. At that point, it could have smelled like rancid garbage, and I might have eaten it if I knew it wouldn’t kill me. The bread was warm, soft, and dense, heavier than I expected. When I took a bite of it, it was actually hard to swallow.

“Use the soup, silly man,” the girl giggled. I picked up the bowl and took a drink of the liquid there, and she was right. It did help to wash the bread down. She laughed aloud. “No, not like that. Use the bread to scoop up the soup. Like this.” She tore a chunk of the bread and dipped it in the bowl, pulling up some of the grains and veggies. I took the chunk and took a bite. That was better; the bread mellowed out the pungent spices, and the liquid made the bread easier to swallow.

She sat down beside me and stared at me as I ate. “Is it true that, where you come from, no one walks the Heavenly Path?” she asked after a moment.

I swallowed the mouthful of bread and soup I’d just taken and nodded. “Yep. I’d never heard of it before I met Jing. I still don’t know what it is.”

“It is the way to true strength and mastery,” she said, as if reciting something memorized. She made a face. “At least, that is what Father tells me. I do not know what it means, though. Do you?”

I shook my head. “No clue. Do you know how it works?”

“A little,” she shrugged. “You have to put energy into your dantian, then you can use that energy to do things. And it has to be cycled through your meridians to keep them clear. Does that make sense?”

“Not really,” I laughed, taking another bite. “At least, it doesn’t, yet. I’m guessing it will eventually.”

“Jing knows how it works,” the girl pouted slightly. “She has gone through the first transformation already.”

“Transformation?” I repeated.

“Yes.” She looked at me curiously. “You have not heard of the transformations, either?”

“Not at all,” I shook my head.

“Oh. Well, I know about the first one. It happens when your body gets rid of its corruption, and all your meridians are opened. Once that happens, your body changes and becomes something different. Jing does not have to sleep or eat, and she bathes because she wants to, not because she needs it.” The girl grimaced. “I can not wait until it happens to me.”

“Well, daughter, wait you shall,” the old man’s voice spoke up, and the girl leaped to her feet. She wasn’t as preternaturally smooth as Jing or her father, but even the little kid looked more agile than me. It was kind of embarrassing. “I will tell you when you may begin the process of opening your meridians, as I have told you many times.”

“Yes, Shifu,” she clasped her hands before her and bowed her head. “Forgive me.”

“Impatience is a trait of youth, small one,” the man chuckled, reaching out and tousling the girl’s hair. “I had it; your sister had it; one day, your children will have it, as well.” He stepped back away from her. “Now, run along and let the strange one finish his meal.”

“Yes, Shifu.” The girl spun and raced off into the house. The old man watched her go, shaking his head, and turned to look at the distant hill with a frown.

“Strange one, did you dig a hole on my hill?” he asked curiously.

I froze in the act of eating. “Um, yeah. I mean, yes, teacher,” I quickly corrected. “You asked me to, remember?”

“Hmm,” the man stroked his chin. “That does not seem like something I would do. In any case, it ruins the beauty of the hillside. When you are done eating, fill it in.”

I stared at the man, my heart sinking as I looked at his impassive face. “Are you kidding?” I stammered. “It took all morning to…”

I blinked as I found myself lying on the ground once more, my chest aching and throbbing. The tray had been knocked from my hands, the food spilled onto the ground. The man stared at me, his face impassive.

“It seems that you have finished your meal earlier than expected,” he said. “That is good; you may begin refilling the hole you made immediately. When it is done, perhaps another meal will be waiting for you.”

You’d think that refilling the hole would be easier than digging it out, right? After all, I had gravity on my side this time, and the dirt had already been loosened up for me. However, it actually took me longer to fill it in, mostly because my muscles were screaming at me by the halfway point, and my palms were actually bleeding from the exercise. It turned out, my new body didn’t come with my old body’s callouses, which meant I’d have to make new ones. The sun was just touching the tips of the western mountains as I finally tapped down the last of the dirt and collapsed into an exhausted heap. My entire body hurt. My hands burned, and my arms and legs trembled so much that I knew I wasn’t going to make it back over the latticework – at least, not without taking a bit of a rest. I just needed to close my eyes for a moment, to regain my strength…

I spluttered as a bucket of cold water splashed over me for the second time that day, drenching me but probably also cleaning me off. I scrambled to my feet, then groaned in pain as my tired muscles seized up, locking me in place. I grabbed my back and stared at Jing, who watched me with supreme disapproval.

“You can not sleep beyond the boundaries of our farm, foolish one,” she scolded me. “The beasts will hunt you, and if you are killed, it will stain my honor.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” I muttered, trying but failing to stand up straight. My back spasmed, and I gasped in pain as the muscles there seized up. “I wasn’t trying to fall asleep, by the way. It just kind of happened.”

“Well, you are awake now. We will return to the house for your evening meal.”

I shook my head. “I’ll never make it,” I told her. “I can’t even stand up, Jing. There’s no way I can walk across those stupid rails.”

The woman sighed and stepped toward me. I flinched, expecting to be hit, but she simply laid her hands on my chest and back, holding me in between them. “Do not be foolish,” she told me dismissively. “I am attempting to aid you.”

“Aid me how?” I broke off as I felt warmth spreading from her hands out into my body. Where the warmth touched, my aching muscles relaxed, and the painful throbbing eased. The heat spread farther out, into my shoulders and neck, down through my groin and legs. It washed up over my head and pooled in my feet. It was an amazing feeling, like soaking in the world’s best hot tub, and when she finally took her hands away, I stared at her in shock. My muscles were still tired and sore, but they no longer ached and burned. Even my hands only throbbed slightly, and the dull headache that had been developing was gone.

“What – what was that?” I asked.

“The reiki,” she said simply. “I shared a small bit of my spirit with you, to aid your recuperation. Are you now able to make the trip back?”

“Yes,” I said after testing my flexibility. I didn’t want to be digging any more holes or anything, but I least I could move freely. “Yes, I can. And thank you.”

“You are welcome. Now, come with me.”

We returned to the house, where I ate another meal like the one I’d been given for lunch that day. When I finished, the old man walked over to me and held out his hand, palm facing upward. “Take this,” he instructed.

I looked down at his hand and saw a small, cylindrical pill resting in his palm. It had a greenish tinge to it that I could see even in the fading light, and it looked coarse, lacking the smooth coating I was used to seeing on pills. I picked it up almost reluctantly and looked at it. “What is it?” I asked, hurriedly adding, “Teacher?”

“It is a minor pill of restoration,” he told me. “It will help your body recover as you sleep and repair itself after the injuries it sustained today. Without it, you will not be able to function in the morning, even with the reiki.”

I eyed the pill suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged. If the guy wanted to kill me, he didn’t need a pill. I popped it in my mouth and swallowed it down, ignoring the bitter, herbal taste to it. “Thank you, teacher.”

“Return to your sleeping chambers and practice your breathing until you become tired,” he instructed, ignoring my gratitude. “In the morning, we will try again.”

Try again? Try again for what?