Hok sailed through the flame-filled doorway first. Seh followed, quick as a whip, with Malao scampering close behind. Fu bounded powerfully through the flames, and Long zipped outside last, fast as lightning. After just a few strides, Long was out front, leading the others through the smoky darkness toward the Hall of a Thousand Buddhas. Fu thought they should head in the opposite direction, but he knew no one would listen if he protested—so he kept his mouth shut and followed as best he could. His body was built for power, not speed. He had a hard time keeping up. The scene unfolding before Fu was worse than anything he could have imagined. Flames leaped from every building. In the eerie glow, he could see orange robes everywhere, filled with dead monks. Hundreds of armor-clad soldiers lay flat on their backs with long spears extending straight up into the air from their throats. Fu choked on smoke and the stench of burning bodies that had been ignited by flaming arrows. He wanted revenge so badly now, he could taste it.
