Girl Giant and the Monkey King

by Van Hoang

  She put the Monkey King’s hair in her pocket, took the ring, and slipped it onto her own finger before leaving the Forbidden Garden.

  * * *

  The Jade Palace was dim and quiet, servants and immortals all at the banquet. She still stepped slowly, cautious of the empty corners, jumping when the hallways infused with light as if sensing her movements. Jade plants grew along the walls, their leaves a beautiful mint green, which lit up the same way the peaches had.

  The walls were made of a translucent stone, like emerald, and light shifted beneath the surface, following her as if guiding her path. Or making sure she didn’t do anything wrong. She couldn’t help feeling like she was being watched, and now that the Monkey King was gone and she was truly alone, she was unable to escape a sense of danger.

  Every time she looked down at her hands, the decaying skin that was starting to crumple off in flakes, she walked faster. The skirt of her áo dài whipped around her legs as she rushed through the hall, breathing hard and trying not to scratch at the scabs on her arms.

  She didn’t know where the armory was exactly, but the Monkey King had said it was in the basement, so she headed down several sets of stairs until she reached the very bottom of the palace. The jade green walls lit up, and her footsteps echoed.

  Something stirred in her pocket—the Monkey King’s hair. As she took it out, one end of it grew bulbous, and his head appeared. He looked like a lollipop.

  “Whoa,” Thom said, not expecting that.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “The basement. I have the key. Where do I go?”

  He sputtered, shrinking. “Red door! Glowing—” His head disappeared, and he was a hair again.

  Heart thumping, she found a door with a reddish glow. Her fingers shook, stiff now, and tingling even more as another scab broke off and disintegrated like ash. She took Jae’s ring from her finger, not sure what to do with it. She looked at it closely for the first time. The ring was made of jade, green and translucent, and carved in the shape of a teardrop. No, a jade-plant leaf. Like the one under the doorknob in front of her.

  At first, the jewel didn’t fit in the keyhole, like a puzzle piece that was almost just right but turned out to have a slight imperfection in its ridges. But then she turned the ring and tried again. It slid into place, and the door shuddered and swayed open.

  She pocketed the ring and stepped inside. The room brightened slowly, the walls glowing to wash light over weapons stored in glass cases. A sword in one case, a gourd in another. A dagger, a throwing star, an ax. She stopped at a large case twice her size. It held a suit of armor with red-and-gold plating and a helmet with long feathers sticking out of it.

  “That was mine,” the Monkey King’s voice squeaked. He was his full tiny self again. “My strength grows. The cudgel is near.”

  “The armor,” Thom said. “It’s so cool.”

  “Do you think so? They gifted it to me when I was named Master of the Horses. It’s modeled after the armor the soldiers of the Jade Army wear, a symbol that I belonged to the Jade Emperor. But it was nothing short of glorified shackles. I belong to no one but myself. Now let’s go find my cudgel. Go that way.”

  Something else caught Thom’s eye. Next to the suit of armor’s case was a smaller one, displaying a silver tiara. It glowed with power, drawing her attention.

  “No, don’t stop.” The Monkey King hopped up and down in her palm to get her attention. “Every item in this room is dangerous. All magical objects have a mind and spirit of their own. They want you to take them. They’ll lure you in and tempt you with their power, but they will only betray you when they are free.”

  She shuddered and kept walking, eyes ahead. And then there it was. The iron cudgel. Neither of them said anything as they approached the staff. It rested on top of a metal platform like the other weapons, but no glass case protected it. A gravitational pull reeled her in.

  “Why isn’t there any glass around it?” she asked. This felt too easy, like anyone could just grab it and go.

  “The glass cases are protective wards, but no spell or any magical being has ever overpowered the cudgel. Many have tried, but it will not listen to anyone but me. And no one is powerful enough to wield it except me. And you. Take it, Thom. Speak to it.”

  She felt silly, but so far everything the Monkey King had told her had been right. The trip to the heavens hadn’t gone according to plan, but he hadn’t lied about anything, not really. She cleared her throat.

  “Um, hi. Mr. Bang? I’m here to take you back to the Monkey King.” Thom waited, but the silence only made her feel sillier. “Um, the full version of him.” She held the thumb-sized Monkey King up to the cudgel.

  What had she expected? For the staff to light up like a Christmas tree? Start dancing in midair? Nothing happened, so she placed the Monkey King on her shoulder and reached for the cudgel.

  It. Was. Heavy. Much heavier than anything she’d ever lifted. At least five times as heavy as the truck in the junkyard.

  She managed to drag it off its pedestal, but then it slipped through her fingers.

  She caught it just before it could crash to the marble, but her arms ached, her fingers strained. More ash fell from her skin, which was now starting to burn.

  It had been a long time since Thom had had to strain to hold something, and the effort was unfamiliar and difficult. She was strong. That was her thing. But the staff was too heavy. There was no way she could carry this out of the Jade Palace, much less the heavens. And she was supposed to do that without anyone noticing? No way.

  “Wukong,” she said. “This is impossible. I can’t.”

  “You must!” the Monkey King hissed.

  “Can’t you…?” she started, but he was sputtering again, his body shrinking back into a hair.

  “Something is happening—they know. Get it out of the armory,” he managed to squeak. “The wards—” He was gone, his hair sticking to her shoulder.

  Thom squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Please, Ruyi Jingu Bang,” she said, but only because she was desperate. “I’m going to take you back to Wukong. But I can’t if you’re this heavy.”

  Nothing changed. She remembered the Monkey King saying the staff would weigh the same no matter what size it was. She lifted the staff, her face heating with exertion, the muscles in her arms bunching. Somehow, she got it up and over her shoulder, though she knew its weight must be bruising her flesh. The cudgel was maybe three feet long—no longer than a yardstick—but it might as well have been as big as a temple. As she turned toward the door, her steps were labored and extremely slow.

  She made it through the door. How long had it been? An hour? Her face was hot. Something slid down her forehead, and she swatted at it. A mosquito? In the heavens?

  No, it was sweat. She was sweating. Which was weird. She hadn’t broken a sweat like this since her powers had appeared.

  “Come on, Mr. Bang,” she groaned. “At least make yourself smaller.” She didn’t think it would work, but the weight concentrated into a sharp spot on her shoulder. The staff hadn’t grown lighter, but it had shrunk to the size of a ruler.

  She still had to use both hands to hold it and her muscles ached and strained, but it was easier than carrying the three-foot cudgel.

  How the Monkey King was able to shrink the staff into a needle and tuck it behind his ear like a pencil, she had no clue. Maybe it liked him better.

  And then somehow, she was outside. Stars lit up the heavens. The temples and clouds glowed even in nighttime. Flying in the heavens had always been weightless, freeing, like gliding in water. But with the cudgel, it was like swimming with your clothes and coat and shoes on.

  Her dress was soaked with sweat, her hair matted to her face, but she was so close. The Judgment Veil was just a cloud away, just a hop, and the Monkey King, the real Monkey King, would be waiting for her on the other side. They would go home. Home to Ma. Home, where he would take her power, and she could go back to her li
fe, her real life.

  Her legs burned. Her arms ached. Even her teeth were numb, from clenching so hard against the strain.

  She bent her knees, eyes on the Gate.

  “Thom.”

  She almost fell sideways, but she caught herself, clutching the ruler-sized cudgel in her grip.

  The Boy Giant stood next to her.

  “Please grow small, Mr. Bang,” she whispered to the staff. “Shrink, or he’ll see you.” She hid it behind her, her arm bent stiffly as she turned to face him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She considered lying, but that felt wrong, and even if she wanted to, her brain had stopped working, all of her attention focused on not dropping the cudgel. To her surprise, it had listened, and shrunk to the size of a thimble. She closed a fist around it, but it was still just as heavy and her palms were so slick she was afraid it would slip between her fingers.

  His gaze flickered to the Veil, then back to her. “You’re leaving us?”

  “I miss my mom.” It wasn’t a lie. “I want to go home.”

  “But you only just got here.”

  How did he know that? Had he known the truth all along?

  “I have to go.” She turned toward the Veil, ready to fall if she had to and let the staff’s weight carry her home.

  “Thom.” This time, his voice was deeper, as if he’d dropped his pretense. “I know what you’re doing.”

  He couldn’t know, not really. Maybe he knew she shouldn’t be in the heavens, but—

  “I know who you’re doing it for.”

  She gazed ahead. She’d been caught. They would send her to the hells now. For some reason, the truth of that didn’t scare her, not yet, like how a paper cut didn’t sting until later. The stars twinkled; the moon cast the clouds in a silvery glow, bright cotton-candy tufts against the black sky.

  The Boy Giant reached out a hand. “Give it to me. Before it’s too late.”

  She shook her head. “It’s already too late.” If she gave herself up now, she would never get the chance at a normal life, never know what she could have done without her power.

  “We can put it back. Before the guards come for you.”

  Her fingers tightened on the tiny cudgel.

  “We don’t have much time. Once you took the staff from the pedestal, the guards were alerted. But I’ll help you. I’ll tell them I took it, that I needed it—hurry, Thom.”

  She hesitated. But if she put the staff back, nothing would change. She was still in the heavens, where she didn’t belong, and the Boy Giant would have to tell the emperor who she was.

  “I can’t.”

  “He’s not your friend.” The Boy Giant’s voice climbed, almost desperate.

  He was lying. He only wanted Thom to stay.

  “He’s betrayed everyone who trusted him,” he said.

  No, he would say anything to get her to give back the cudgel now. She had met the Monkey King’s friends: the demons on the Mountain, Concao and Shing-Rhe, and all his monkey brothers. They wouldn’t have stayed friends with him all this time if what the Boy Giant said was true.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I have to do this.”

  “Thom, please. I can only help you if you stop now. There will be no going back from this.” Something caught in his throat, and she looked at him in disbelief. Back from what? From what she’d always wanted?

  “I know what the Monkey King promised you,” he said. “But he’ll betray you.”

  Sweat rolled down her temples. “You don’t know him. He’s been helping me.”

  “Helping you. Or using you?”

  “He taught me to control my strength.”

  “Only so you would trust him. I can show you—really show you.”

  “How do I know you’re not only saying that so I will trust you?”

  “Because I don’t need you to do anything for me. The Monkey King does. He’s using you to steal his cudgel for him. But all I want is to teach you. I can help you. I can show you what it’s like to be who you are and how to live with your strength. I know it’s hard. I know. You and I are alike, remember? Small”—he smiled—“but mighty.” He reached out a hand. “You can stay here with me. Train to be who you’re meant to be.”

  Was it true? Or just another trick? Who was lying, and who was telling the truth?

  “The Monkey King can’t change you,” he said. “Because you’re not a demon—you’re part immortal. Your strength is a part of you. You’re good.”

  She knew it. Ever since Jae had told her about the children of gods and mortals turning out unpredictably, she’d suspected that that was what had happened. She was abnormal. She was a freak. “But I’ve done bad things. I stole the cudgel. I snuck into the heavens,” she said. “They’ll punish me, send me to the hells.”

  Only the Monkey King could help her. It was too late to turn back now.

  “I won’t let them,” he said.

  “What can you do?”

  “I’m the Boy Giant. One of the Four Immortals. I can speak on your behalf.”

  “But why would you do that?”

  “Because you’re my daughter.”

  She choked. Of course she was. She had started to suspect as much, had maybe known the moment they’d met. It explained why he had shown her so much attention, why he had wanted to teach her to use her power, why he had offered to train her to become the Girl Giant. They even looked like each other, both small with the same careful, shy smile.

  She didn’t feel like a giant. Not now, barely managing to hang on to the massively heavy yet thimble-sized cudgel.

  “Why did you leave Ma and me?” she asked. Heat boiled inside her, a tightening in her chest. He had been up here all along, hadn’t given one thought to her, hadn’t helped her at all, even though he must have known how hard it was for her to grow up so different, to develop a strength no one could explain.

  “I didn’t want to, Thom. Never. But immortals aren’t supposed to fall in love with mortals, and once your mother and I had you, we knew you wouldn’t be safe if I’d stayed. The heavens would suspect. They would have taken you away. They have never been tolerant of things they don’t understand,” he said quietly. “I might have taken you with me, protected you myself, but your mother wanted you to have a normal life.”

  Sweat dripped into Thom’s eyes, stinging them and making them water. Her hands burned from clutching the cudgel, and from something else, from the decay that was now up to her shoulders. She needed to decide. “You wanted to bring me here?”

  “Always.” He took a step closer. “I never wanted to leave you. I wanted to bring you both, but a life for you in the mortal world meant so much to your mother. I regretted that decision every day that went by. And when I couldn’t watch over you myself, I sent a guardian instead.”

  “Kha,” Thom said, wiping the sweat out of her eyes.

  “I wanted someone to keep you safe.”

  “You should have kept me safe! You’re my father! You knew all along what I was, but you didn’t tell me. You let me believe I was a freak.” The cudgel suddenly hummed with strength. It was starting to grow bigger, as if feeding on her anger. Her palms were slick, but the weapon stayed put, like it was glued to her skin.

  “I wanted to,” her father said. “But your mother decided it was safer if I stayed away forever.”

  “Ma?” Why would Ma do that? Why hadn’t Ma told Thom anything?

  “She said it was too dangerous,” he continued, as if reading her thoughts.

  The staff grew back to its full length. The Boy Giant took a step forward, but the cudgel hummed violently in response. He stopped.

  “Thom, please.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

  “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked. “I can’t undo it, but I will try to make it up to you. I’ll explain everything. I’ll fix everything.”

  A tear rolled from her right eye. If she had known about her fat
her, the truth about her strength, would she have made a different choice? She looked at the staff. She couldn’t go through with this. What was she thinking? She was about to steal a forbidden weapon from the heavens and give it to a demon-god who had tricked her.

  “Come back, Thom. Give me the cudgel. We can return it to the armory. I’ll explain to the Jade Emperor, before it’s too late.”

  Thom’s knees threatened to buckle. She started to move toward the Boy Giant.

  “Don’t do it, Thom!” the Monkey King squeaked in her ear. He was back, jumping on her shoulder, like someone was tapping her with a finger. “He’s lying to you.”

  She stopped.

  “Thom?” The Boy Giant held out a hand.

  “He abandoned you.” The Monkey King’s voice was weak as he whispered. “He could have helped you all this time, but he left you to think you were a freak.”

  The Monkey King was right. Where had the Boy Giant been when her power started? What was he doing when her life was falling apart?

  “Give me the cudgel, Thom,” the Boy Giant said, his voice no longer soft or kind, but demanding. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “And whose fault is that?” the Monkey King asked, even though the Boy Giant couldn’t hear him.

  “That was your fault,” Thom said to her father. “If you had just … If anyone had just.” She thought of Ma and stumbled. “There’s only one person who has ever been there for me. And it wasn’t you.”

  Something changed in the way the Boy Giant looked at her, a realization that maybe he had underestimated her, that he couldn’t manipulate her into trusting him, as if he could make up for eleven years of abandonment with one afternoon tea and a golden string bracelet. He lunged forward.

  Thom reacted out of instinct and swung the cudgel. It smacked the Boy Giant’s head.

  A dazed expression blanketed his eyes, and he trembled from head to toe. Then he dropped to the cloud.

  Thom gasped. She hadn’t meant to hit so hard, hadn’t gauged the combined weight of the cudgel with her superstrength, hadn’t factored in that she was much stronger in the heavens. “No, no, no—”