by F. C. Yee
He said nothing. And blew another deliberate plume of smoke into the air.
The metal of Quentin’s chair screeched as he stood up. “The lady is asking you to put it out.”
Ugh. There wasn’t a need to escalate like that. But the man got up, too.
Friggin’ dudes and their pissing matches. Fine. I got to my feet as well. Ace card played, buddy, tallest person right here.
The man turned around and looked up at me. I nearly jumped backward onto the table.
“Something on my face?” he said with a grin.
He looked to be a middle-aged construction worker, judging by how much blue denim he was wearing. There were tons of guys like him in the surrounding towns, tearing down and putting up houses at the behest of newly minted tech families.
But that was only from the neck down. His face was a Halloween mask, a really good one. Black-ringed eyes, a long muzzle, and facial hair that went all the way round like a mane. A big cat straight out of the savannah.
The bipedal lion exhaled more smoke, and suddenly his face fritzed back to a human’s. His entire appearance was a broken TV unable to decide which channel to land on.
Quentin obviously wasn’t seeing what I was seeing or else he would have immediately flipped out into rage mode. But he could tell something was wrong.
“Genie,” he said, his voice full of suspicion. “Does that guy look normal to you?”
“Probably not,” the man answered for me. “Given that I’m a demon.”
16
“So,” the man said to Quentin in a catchy-uppy tone. “How have you been?”
I wanted to smack myself for being so stupid. Quentin and I had spent the entire morning cozying up over which member of the X-Men I wanted to be, when what really mattered was the two of us had killed a monster only three days ago. I should have pressed him about whether the Demon King of Confusion was some kind of onetime incident or not.
Because the answer was most decidedly not.
From the look of it, though, Quentin was as much on his back foot as I was. He frowned like he was at a party where he didn’t know anyone.
“Something wrong with your eyes?” the man asked. He pointed to himself. “Huangshijing? No?”
The name finally rang a bell for Quentin. “Tawny Lion,” he said. “I didn’t recognize you without your trash brothers around.”
“That’s rude of you. Especially since they’re right here.”
Six more men filed around the corner to back up the first. They had human faces, but they were dressed identically to the smoker, down to the last stitch. The costume department somewhere had gotten lazy.
They made a semicircle around us, hemming us in against the building. I’d always thought the shots of the criminal gang pouring in to attack the hero in martial arts films were silly. But in real life, from the hero’s perspective, being outnumbered? It was actually rather terrifying.
Quentin tensed up for another knock-down, drag-out fight. His muscles snapped into readiness hard enough to be audible. My stomach lurched at the prospect of more bloodshed and violence on the level of our previous encounter.
“Oh come on,” said the leader of the gang. “Have you no decorum?”
A young couple pushed their baby stroller right by us. The street was filling up. Whatever we did outside was sure to be noticed.
The man tossed his cigarette butt aside and motioned to the inside of the tea shop. “Let’s talk. The girl, too. I wouldn’t want to be rude to your guest.”
Possibly as a show of good faith, he went in first. His brothers began to trickle in after him.
“When you said you sensed a demonic presence in my town, did that include these guys?” I hissed at Quentin under my breath.
“No! These assholes are supposed to be dead!”
“According to you, a lot of assholes are supposed to be dead, and yet we keep running into them!”
Only one member of the gang remained outside. This was our last chance to book it. None of this demon business, dead or undead, had anything to do with me.
As if he knew what I was thinking, Quentin tapped the back of his hand against the back of mine.
“Stay,” he said.
“Because it’ll be safer?”
“Because I might need your help if this gets ugly.”
It was jarring how gravely serious he sounded. I could tell he really was at a disadvantage here. But somehow I leveled the playing field?
The last man held the door and whipped his hand in a circle, telling us to get a move on.
Following Quentin inside was less of a struggle than I expected. My better instincts were failing me.
The shop was empty except for one person. “Something else I can get you folks?” asked the piercing-riddled college student who was working the register.
“Sleep,” Quentin told her.
I knew Quentin had mentioned it, but I never would have believed he could bewitch people with a single command. Not without seeing it here. The girl’s eyes fluttered shut and she sank to the floor, disappearing behind the ice cream counter.
“Conceal,” said Tawny Lion, gesturing at the front of the store.
The glass windows and doors turned into a hazy amber. People moved about outside, but they were vague shadows. Not one tried to enter the shop.
The six men, the ones who’d arrived later, settled in around the biggest table toward the back. The way they watched like attentive students made it clear their leader was to do all the talking. Tawny Lion remained in the three-way standoff with Quentin and me.
“First things first,” he said. “You should apologize for calling my brothers trash. One of the very first things we do with our newfound freedom from Hell is to seek you out so we can make amends, and you insult us? You haven’t changed a bit.”
“A pack of thieves like you is trash, and you should still be rotting in the pits!” Quentin snapped. “Did the Jade Emperor install a revolving door since last I checked?”
“Hmmm, I suppose I could tell you how we got out,” Tawny Lion said, tapping at his bottom lip with his finger. “But then again, the first rule you learn in prison is ‘no snitching.’ ”
Quentin looked ready to break the cease-fire and give him stitches anyway. I motioned for him to calm down. The situation was still negotiable.
“He’s only miffed because we pulled off the same feat he did, breaking free from Diyu,” Tawny Lion said to me, tilting his head at Quentin. “He’s also the one who sent us there in the first place, which makes it even more embarrassing for him.”
If the demon was going to speak to me like a familiar fellow conspirator, then maybe I could play along.
“Well,” I said nervously. “You sure showed his dumb ass.”
Quentin stared at me like I’d laid an egg right there on the floor, but Tawny Lion beamed.
“It’s really impressive that you’ve managed to escape Hell itself,” I said, remembering how satisfied the Demon King of Confusion was with himself for the feat. “The mystery makes it all the more mysterious. I mean intriguing. Fascinating.”
The demon pointed both hands at me, palms up. “See?” he said to Quentin happily. “Someone gets it. This is a feat that only you accomplished before. In many ways this makes me your equal.”
“Yes!” I said before Quentin could protest at being compared to the demon. “But now that you two have made your peace, I’m sure you’ll be on your way. Back to your home, wherever it is. Probably some place far from here.”
LEAVE this mortal realm! I wanted to shout. I would have sounded like a reality-show medium dealing with an invisible poltergeist in the rafters.
The very solid, tangible demon in front of me laughed.
“On the contrary,” Tawny Lion said. “Confronting the specters of our past is only the first item on our to-do list. If we want to make any headway toward the rest of our goals, we’re going to have to settle in right here on Earth.”
Dammit. So much for th
e “weaseling out of small talk” strategy.
“What, uh, are your goals exactly?” I felt like a Super Bowl sideline reporter forced to interview her least-favorite team. “Because maybe you don’t have to be here to accomplish them.”
“Eh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that,” Tawny Lion said to me. “Mostly they revolve around becoming stronger. You may not believe it, but for a yaoguai, self-improvement is the greatest goal imaginable. To have ultimate control over your body and mind is to move closer to enlightenment. All demons want to attain the Way.”
He winked at me. “And the wealth of powers that come along with it aren’t so bad.”
I yielded to his explanation with a slight nod-shrug. Quentin had only just been saying that a lot of his enemies trained themselves to level up as much as possible. And from what I’d read so far in the book of Sun Wukong’s journeys, the bulk of the demons attacked the party because they wanted Xuanzang’s flesh as a spiritual steroid boost.
“Earth is like one big nature retreat, ideal for discovering your inner strength,” Tawny Lion said. “Slim chance of getting anything done in Hell with so many distractions. Now that we’re alive again, my brothers and I are going to continue our personal development and pick up where we left off back in the days of Xuanzang.”
Quentin did not like the name of his old master crossing the demon’s lips. “You mean you’re going to cheat your way to power by eating any human being that suits your needs!”
“Whaaat? Nooo,” Tawny Lion said, teasing. “That’s not our plan at all. Maybe that’s what the other yaoguai are going to do once they get here, but not us.”
The bottom had just dropped out of this conversation. Not that it was a sparkler to begin with, but now it was fully pear-shaped.
“Other yaoguai?” Quentin said slowly. “What other yaoguai? You mean the Demon King of Confusion?”
“That weakling? I guess he’s around somewhere, too, but I meant the other yaoguai coming to Earth,” Tawny Lion said, as if it were common knowledge. “I’m talking about your old friends from your little road trip.”
The look on Quentin’s face told me I could start freaking out any time now. I was way ahead of him. The sinking feeling that had been in my stomach since the beginning of this encounter was now the size of an iceberg.
“Oh dear,” Tawny Lion said. “I thought you knew. Because there are some real bad characters in that bunch. I wouldn’t want to be a human caught in their path. Can you say bloodbath?” The demon chuckled at the thought.
“Quentin?” I said, unsure of what to do.
He didn’t answer. He was lost in thought, moving his lips silently over a number of possible futures, all of which appeared to be very, very bad.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Tawny Lion said to me. “Check out the monkey’s face! That’s how you can tell I’m an okay guy. Most other demons take shortcuts on the path to power by eating anyone they think will give them the slightest leg up.”
“I’ve got a different strategy,” he went on, obviously fishing for the follow-up question.
I fell for the bait. “Which is?”
Tawny Lion smiled. “My shortcut is that I’m going to steal the Ruyi Jingu Bang.”
He made a quick signal, and the six men in the back pounced on Quentin.
“Barrier,” Tawny Lion said, spreading his hands out.
The shop snapped in two. Not physically. But I could feel a wall slam down, separating me and Tawny Lion from Quentin and the others. I could still see them, but the sound of their scuffle was muted by half.
“Bind,” Tawny Lion added.
My legs and arms jerked together, and I stood up so straight it hurt, a fresh recruit ordered to attention by a drill sergeant. I couldn’t move.
“Genie!” Quentin shouted. The other men weren’t brawling with him; they were focusing solely on containment. Three of them were grappling him physically, and the others were standing back to channel a similar binding spell, muttering the command over and over to hold him down. Between all six, they were succeeding.
The invisible constriction around me tightened, and I cried out in pain.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Tawny Lion said. “I know who you are, and that’s not even close to causing you harm.”
He leaned in, secretive. “I didn’t track down the monkey’s aura, you know. I followed yours. The original feud between me and Sun Wukong started because I tried to take the Ruyi Jingu Bang once before. Why do you think he hates me beyond all proportion?”
I strained against the bindings, hoping to find more room to breathe. “I thought—it was because—you’re a pompous piece of trash.”
Tawny Lion laughed. “Well get used to it. This pompous piece of trash is going to be your new master now. Whoever controls the staff of the Monkey King controls enough power to take Heaven by force. Once I figure out a way to strip that pesky human form from you, I’ll have the gods kissing my feet.”
The demon’s attention turned away from me to someone I’d forgotten about the whole time.
“You know what?” Tawny Lion said. He walked over to the counter and bent down behind it. “Given how much I have to celebrate, I think I’m going to cheat on my diet a little.”
He reappeared holding the girl who had been working the register. She dangled limply in his arms. Her bandana had fallen off and tresses of wavy red hair covered her face.
I expended the last of my air. “But you said you didn’t eat—”
“I lied. I’m a lion, you fool. Did you think I was a frugivore?”
Tawny Lion cha-cha’ed with the girl’s unconscious body out to the center of the room, swaying his hips to the radio song trickling through the barrier’s muting effect. He dipped her toward me and her head lolled back, her pupils dilated and unseeing.
“Ah,” he said, “This one has a surprising amount of spiritual energy. I’d bet she has excellent gongfu. A talented artist, maybe? She looks like the type.”
He sniffed her exposed neck. “Great bouquet, too. Xuanzangesque, you might say.”
I thrashed back and forth, desperately hoping that I could wriggle free by sheer oscillating force.
Come on! I shrieked inwardly at myself, wishing more than anything that I hadn’t treated Quentin’s catalog of powers so lightly before. Strength, magic, kick in! PLEASE!
The demon grasped the girl by her shoulders. He opened his jaws wide, exposing a pink, ridged throat and rows of pointed carnivore’s teeth. His mouth kept impossibly distending, reaching an angle so obtuse he resembled a lamprey more than a cat. He drew her head into his bite radius, working his lips forward as if he meant to crunch the top half of her skull off in one try, like a child impatient to get at the bubblegum in the center of a lollipop.
“Da ge!” shouted one of the men in the back. “The monkey!”
Quentin had slipped free. He hurled himself at the invisible wall between us. A loud whump rattled the store as his shoulder made contact—a hockey player crashing into the Plexiglas.
The barrier held, but Tawny Lion stumbled. I felt the constriction around me loosen.
The demon quickly drew his mouth away, unraveling his jaws from the girl’s head with the insulted air of someone whose phone had rung during dinner. He threw her into the nearest chair, where she sprawled out, unharmed for the moment. I squeezed my elbows outward with all my might and felt the magic give.
“One thing, you idiots!” he yelled, his words distorted and jowly from speaking before his mouth shrunk fully back to normal. “I ask for just one thing!”
He took a stance and raised his hands like he was going to recast the spell that was keeping Quentin away. But right now he had something bigger than the Monkey King to worry about.
Me.
17
I’d tried gymnastics as a child. This was when I still had a chance of fitting between the uneven bars, so that tells you how long ago it was.
The coach explained to us that when yo
u weren’t used to doing a sudden move like a handspring or flip, it was common to lose your vision for a second or two in the middle of it. Your eyes wouldn’t be able to process the motion without practice, so you could be watching your own limbs the whole time without really seeing them.
That’s what happened to me. I couldn’t visualize my surroundings clearly.
But I was doing something.
And then suddenly, there I was. Out of breath. Panting and sweating in the middle of the room with no one around.
The men who’d been fighting with Quentin now littered the corners of the café, crumpled and discarded like straw wrappers. They hadn’t been beaten. They’d been caved in, wrecked to the point where they weren’t even twitching.
The remnants of a broken chair lay at my feet instead of theirs, and there were splinters in my hair. If I didn’t know any better, I would think someone had smashed the heavy piece of furniture over my head. But I didn’t feel a thing. No lumps, no bruises.
Given the demons’ identical dress, it took me a second to locate Tawny Lion. I used deduction to find him—seeing who’d gotten the worst of it. There he was.
The leader of the demons had been hammered face-first into the wall so hard he was partially embedded like a nail. It would have been comical—Sunday morning–cartoonish—if not for the blood leaking out of the cracks. I watched it drip to the floors, wondering when I would start to feel sick or scared or anything but hugely satisfied with the carnage.
I heard a whistle. “Damn,” said Quentin. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“I did this? It wasn’t you?”
“Nope. I just got out of your way. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart.”
An awkward silence passed. It probably should have been filled with me vigorously denying everything. There was no way I could have done any of this! I’m not that strong! I’m not that violent!
But instead, nothing.
