by F. C. Yee
I’d lost patience with the rest of the people in the lobby and stuffed them in the hallway of the first floor. They’d sort themselves out once they woke up.
Quentin emerged from an unmarked room holding a bunch of tapes and computer equipment.
“We’re lucky they had an old system,” he said. “The newer security cameras upload recordings to the Internet automatically.”
“How do you even know that?” I said. “Did you break into fancy apartment buildings all the time back in ancient China?”
He shrugged off the question and gave his armful of electronics a squeeze over the nearest trash can. The broken bits filtered through his fingers, shades of my annihilated phone.
My self-imposed deadline had been blown, and my mother would be furious with me once I got home. But that wasn’t what I was worried about right now.
“This is bad,” I said, chewing my fingernails. “This is so bad. We effed up, Quentin. He got away. The demon got away. There’s a hole in the roof of this building.”
A middle-aged man in running shorts with a Yorkie on a leash entered the lobby as I was speaking.
“What hole in the building?” the man asked. He saw the doorman spread-eagled behind the desk. “What did you do to Lucius? Who are you two?”
“Sleep.” Quentin tossed the spell over his shoulder without looking. The man crumpled to the carpet. His dog began licking his passed-out face.
I rubbed my arms and paced back and forth, suddenly cold. This was the first time we tried to apprehend a demon with full knowledge and preparation of what we were doing, and we’d borked it.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie and call this the best demon hunt I’ve ever been on,” Quentin said. “But look on the bright side. All of these people are . . . roughly okay. We scared off the yaoguai before it caused any real damage.”
His words weren’t much of a comfort. I kicked at the floor hard enough that it startled the dog into whimpering.
“We’ll talk to Guanyin,” Quentin said. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
28
“You let him get away?”
It was the first weekend after our debacle with the faceless man, and our first debriefing with Guanyin and Erlang Shen. For our meeting spot we were in a dim sum restaurant near the train station two towns over from mine. The clanking, cackling, brunch-time chatter formed a cone of deafness around us as good as any silencing spell.
Which was good, because Quentin had severely misrepresented what Guanyin’s reaction to our little escapade would be. The Goddess of Mercy was more upset than anyone I’d ever seen capable of, outside of me and my mother.
“You let him get away,” she repeated incredulously.
“This one wasn’t an eater,” Quentin said. “I’m sure of it.”
“And how do you know that?” Erlang Shen asked.
“He was too powerful. You can’t reach that level of manipulation ability if you still crave human flesh. Also he had no mouth.”
Guanyin looked at Quentin like his answer physically hurt her brain. “So it’s okay that this particular yaoguai is running free, because he’s strong enough to bewitch any human into doing his bidding. Yau mou gaau cho ah . . .”
I’d thought maybe being in public would have lessened our gloom, but instead the restaurant mirrored it back on us tenfold. It might have been the sheen of grease on the floors, or the glass of the fish tanks lining the wall. Either way, it felt like a spotlight of unfestiveness was being aimed at us.
We ignored most of the carts that passed by. The two gods didn’t bother with human food, and I couldn’t muster an appetite in a situation like this. Even Quentin toned down his consumption to normal levels, having long finished his vegetable dumplings out of a sense of obligation rather than enjoyment.
“We searched the building after scaring him off, and we didn’t find any remains,” I said.
“Well that’s nice,” Guanyin said. “But that’s not the only issue here. Having a ravenous yaoguai on the loose would have meant that the two of you were only on the hook for every missing person report until it was caught. Now that we know it likes controlling people against their will, you can also add every act of violence, depravity, and self-harm to your list as well.”
Quentin shot to his feet. “A word outside,” he barked.
The goddess locked eyes with him for a long second, but eventually she stood and followed him out of the restaurant.
I could barely look up from the table. I felt like garbage.
I wasn’t used to failing in ways that I couldn’t make up for with sheer brute effort. I could usually cover my normal-world shortcomings by hitting the books or the gym harder, but Guanyin was right. There was no way to spin this.
In the interim silence my phone vibrated, a period on the end of the sentence. Probably Yunie. I let it go until it stopped.
Erlang Shen took the moment to speak up.
“She takes her job very seriously,” he explained. “When you first meet her she’s all sweetness and favors. But if you ever disappoint her . . .”
“Yeah, she’s got layers,” I muttered.
“Don’t take it too hard. In my opinion, you’re holding up your end of the bargain as well as can be expected. The two of you have looked for this faceless man since then, right?”
“Yeah. For hours. And miles. But I couldn’t find anything. I don’t know if it’s because my version of true sight is weaker than Quentin’s, or what.”
Erlang Shen looked gobsmacked at my admission. “Your version?”
Crap. “I . . . uh . . . yes. I’m the one who’s got true sight now, not Quentin. Is that a problem?”
“No,” he said. “Not at all. But it’s a pretty big deal, the Ruyi Jingu Bang having that ability tacked on to the rest of its portfolio. You’re more powerful than you ever were before.”
“Even though I can’t size change or make clones of myself yet?”
He waved dismissively. “Those are party tricks. They’ll come to you eventually. But the strength of the Ruyi Jingu Bang combined with the all-seeing vision of the Monkey King? With those two powers alone you could conquer Heaven. I’m very impressed.”
Flattery was nice. Especially when delivered with Erlang Shen’s genuine, cloud-parting smile. But given my recent missteps, I would have preferred he lend me a hand instead of moral support.
“Are you sure you can’t help?” I asked. “Being a warrior god and all?”
He seemed to appreciate that I’d remembered his stature, but he shook his head all the same. “Very sure. My hands are tied because of that idiotic laotouzi.”
“What old man? You mean Quentin? I don’t think he’d be so petty as to reject your help in this case.”
“No,” he said. “I meant my uncle. The Jade Dunderhead.”
Whoa. I wasn’t expecting that kind of talk from the god everyone understood to be the poster boy for filial piety. I nudged my chair away from him in case the ground cracked open and swallowed him whole.
“You look surprised. Did you think I liked my uncle’s decisions? That I approved of his methods? That do-nothing is responsible for this world going to the dogs, in my opinion.”
“Only the Goddess of Mercy stretches the limits of what we’re allowed to do on Earth,” he said. “If someone as active and strong as her were in charge, we would never have ended up in this scenario to begin with.”
Huh. I approved of this outspoken version of Erlang Shen. We were aligned on a surprising number of levels. It was too bad I only got to see him while our counterparts were having it out.
“A word of wisdom, on both the demon-hunting front and on sharpening your powers,” he said. “Don’t let the setbacks mess with your overall progress. I know that Guanyin is going to hound you over every outcome, but what’s done is done. Focus on becoming stronger, which you can control, over possible failures, which you can’t always.”
That was pretty decent advice. Anna-like, in a way. “Got any sugg
estions on getting into a good college?” I asked.
“Yeah. Bribe the hell out of everyone you can.”
I laughed out loud. Erlang Shen pretended to look insulted, but he couldn’t prevent his grin from peeking out.
“What?” he said. “It’s the truest Way, if there ever was one.”
Quentin and Guanyin came back in and sat down, each wearing the sourest, most ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend-y faces I’d ever seen. Seriously, after that display nothing was going to convince me that they hadn’t broken up with each other at least three times.
“You’re doing well,” Guanyin said. She was clearly not the Goddess of Lying to Make You Feel Better. “And I know that it seems unfair that I hold you to account for a perfect record like some overzealous schoolteacher. But a slipup like this, so early on in your endeavors, has consequences.”
She waved at Erlang Shen. “Remember his thing with the tea, and the swirling, and the whatnot? If you don’t, he can do it again.”
Erlang Shen raised his eyebrows at her dismissive tone. “I remember,” I said. “No need.”
“Then if you’ll recall, yaoguai are attracted to masses of spiritual energy,” Guanyin said. “And that includes other yaoguai. Especially powerful ones. Previously it was just you and Sun Wukong involuntarily broadcasting your signals throughout the cosmos, but now this faceless man is doing it as well. The demons will be coming faster and in greater numbers now. You’ve made this job significantly harder on yourselves.”
God.
Friggin’.
Damn it.
I knew there was going to be blowback. Erlang Shen and Quentin might have thought from their lofty, dude-tinted perspectives that everything was cool, but Guanyin’s simple truth threw that idea right out the window.
“I don’t let yaoguai get the best of me,” Quentin said, falling back to platitudes. “We’ll manage.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Guanyin said. “Once Red Boy makes his move, you two will need your undivided attention to stop him. If he comes to Earth while you’re still chasing your tails, then there is no limit to the damage he could do.”
She gave a brief, flat chuckle. “In fact, that’s undoubtedly his plan, now that I say it out loud. To strike us at our lowest point, while we’re distracted. It makes sense, don’t you think?”
There was a long beat in the conversation.
“Come on now,” Guanyin said. “I didn’t mean to depress everyone. Sometimes I get worked up because, well . . .” She sucked in her lips as she searched for the right explanation.
“I think of us like a family right now,” she said. “Strange as it is to say.”
Huh. There were two other confused frowns besides mine on that one.
Guanyin reached out to either side of her, grabbing Quentin and Erlang Shen by the hand, hard enough to make them both wince. Since I was sitting across from her out of reach, I got the full force of her withering gaze.
“What’s going on right now?” she went on. “It’s like family business, when you look at it from a certain angle. Our little divine family is responsible for this awful mess, letting yaoguai run loose on Earth. But we’re going to clean it up.”
Now I knew where Guanyin was going with the metaphor. These weren’t words of comfort. These were twists of the knife.
“And the reason why we’re going to succeed is because we know what’s important.” She wagged Quentin and Erlang Shen’s hands up and down for emphasis. “What’s important is that we don’t let anyone else get dragged into our family garbage. If someone who isn’t family suffers because of our failings, then there isn’t a word for the kind of shame we should feel. Does everyone get me?”
No one spoke. My phone started vibrating again, loud and insistent, until I finally yanked it out and put it on silent.
“I’m so glad you all understand,” Guanyin said.
29
I looked at myself in the mirror and smoothed down the front of my dress. “I can do this,” I said. “I can do this.”
Mom poked her head into my room. “Do you remember when I last wore my pearls?” she asked.
“Huh? Why?”
She grunted at my inability to follow her logic with the precision of a mind reader. “Because if it was at Auntie Helen’s gathering, then they’re in a different jewelry box, not the normal one.”
I was so confounded that I forgot what I had been preparing the last few minutes to tell her. “Then just check the other jewelry box!” I said instead.
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” she muttered before sweeping back down the hallway.
I couldn’t really blame her for being scatterbrained at the moment. Yunie’s competition performance tonight had her excited beyond measure. She reveled in any opportunity to show that her in-group was better than someone else’s. And since volleyball was definitely not as prestigious as classical music on the Asian Parent Scale, I rarely scratched that itch for my mother in the right way.
She’d been looking forward to this night. It was too bad I’d have to ruin it for her.
I approached her in the kitchen as she was busy unwrapping hard candy so as not to make sounds during the performance if she needed a throat lozenge. She’d read that advice in an opera program once and had been fascinated with the idea ever since. Like it was the fanciest way possible to stifle a cough.
“Mom,” I said. This was it. “I invited Dad.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me.
“He’s got a seat at the opposite wing of the hall. I’m not trying to trick you into talking to each other or anything. It’s just that it wouldn’t be fair if only one of you got to come.”
Somewhere in my head, the idea of telling her last minute so that she wouldn’t back out had played out better than it was doing right now.
Because right now was the part of the action film where she dipped her finger in the wound I’d opened on her, tasted her own blood, and sneered disdainfully at me. The juggernaut had been unleashed. The human era had ended. The language of man could not begin to describe what would happen next.
The doorbell rang.
“That’s not him,” I said quickly. Then I ran, because whoever the hell it was, they’d given me the timeliest of outs.
I opened the door. It was Quentin.
“Is that also proper gear for outdoor exercise?” he said, eyebrow raised.
I didn’t understand what he was referencing until I remembered that we normally snuck off to train at this hour. With everything that had been going on, I’d forgotten to cancel on him.
I closed the door behind me as silently as I could. “I can’t tonight,” I said. “I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” A roguish smirk spread over his face as he drank me in.
“Oh knock it off. Just because this is the first time I’ve worn something with bare shoulders around you doesn’t mean you need to be all ‘hurr, she cleans up real good.’ I know you think you’re being nice, but it’s condescending.”
“Turn true sight on,” Quentin said.
“What? Why?”
He shrugged. “Humor me.”
I didn’t know how much longer Mom was going to stay inside without bothering to check on me, so I did. Whatever would make him leave sooner.
“Are you looking at me?” he asked.
“Yes, and hurry up. It’s like staring into a light bulb.”
Quentin cleared his throat. “Genie Lo, you are definitely . . . NOT the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
A metal bubble bigger than our heads spewed out of his lips and rose into the air. It could have taken out a power line. It looked revolting.
How it felt was another matter entirely.
I couldn’t keep an uncontrollable, dizzy grin off my face. And I started to get self-conscious about my neckline. I didn’t need Quentin seeing how far down I blushed.
“That’s messed up,” I said. I reached out and p
oked him in the chest, but my touch lingered longer than it meant to. “Everyone keeps saying I look like your former master who used to torture you.”
Quentin laced his fingers between mine and pulled me closer to him. “Maybe I have some issues I need to work through. You might be able to help with that.”
I couldn’t think straight. The look in his eyes was out of hand. This was first-day Quentin. Quentin standing on my desk, not caring who or what anyone else thought. A demigod who knew exactly what he wanted.
Whom he wanted.
The door opened behind me and I nearly tumbled backward into my mother.
“Pei-Yi, if you think for one minute you can—oh, hello dear,” she said once she saw Quentin. “Are you coming to the concert too? Genie didn’t tell me. Because why would she tell me anything?”
Quentin snapped back into propriety and raised his hands. “Just paying a visit. Sadly, I don’t think I’m invited to whatever’s going on tonight.”
“Oh, such a pity,” Mom said. Her voice was the tonal equivalent of a public assassination. “Who knows how she chooses which people to bring and who to exclude. I thought for certain that you’d be on the list.”
I wheeled around. “I’m not the sole arbiter of who gets access to Vivaldi in the Bay Area!”
“Oh please! Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!”
“I’d better go,” Quentin said. “You ladies have fun. Try not to get into any trouble.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and sauntered away, whistling into the evening air. The tune might have been the “Spring” concerto from The Four Seasons.
Mom let out a snort. “See? That’s what happens when you act like that. You scare the good ones away.”
It was not a pleasant car ride across the bridge and up the highway, but at least it was a silent one. The two of us knew that we needed not to show our asses this evening.
The performance was being held at the auditorium of a nearby state school. A good one too—one that would have been at the top of my list had I not been so desperate to gain some distance from Santa Firenza.
