by Gene Curtis
James asked, “What are we going to do about housing for the troops?”
Steve said, “Training is almost over with. I recommend leave for everyone until the graduation ceremony can be arranged.”
“That sounds good. Work with Salina and James to work out a plan. Everyone else, work on what needs to be done.”
Everyone except LeOmi and the guards left.
Mark said to LeOmi, “You’re wearing a different shirt.”
“Yeah, the other one got messed up.”
Samantha said, “It was a bit bloody, but she’s okay. It’s just a scratch really, nothing serious.”
LeOmi said, “We’ve already patched it up.”
“What happened?”
“Naomi got a lucky cut.” She held her shirt up a little. “It isn’t deep, but it bled enough to mess up my shirt.”
He picked up Naomi’s bedroll and spread it on the ground beside her. “Let’s get her home. I think she’ll be more comfortable in her own bed”
They laid her down on the bedroll. He, LeOmi and the guards grabbed the four corners and two sides, lifted her and remanifested back to the Nazarite village.
Shimishon called to them after they exited Naomi’s home. “My friends, you have found Naomi?”
Mark smiled, “She is sleeping in her bed.”
He grabbed Mark by the shoulders. “This is great news. Elimelech will be well pleased. Come, we must tell him.”
Shimishon turned and started walking toward the dining hall. They followed him.
Mark said to LeOmi, “Take first watch. Use Spirit Sight to keep an eye on her. With any luck, Pei-Pei will show up and we can follow her to wherever she is staying.”
When they reached the entrance to the dining hall, the major looked back toward Naomi’s house. “That smoke looks a little strange to me.”
They all looked at the smoke issuing from the chimney. It had a faint purplish tint.
LeOmi sat next to the entrance with her back against the wall and entered Spirit Sight.
It didn’t take long; Pei-Pei landed right by the front door, entered and went straight to Naomi’s room. Two minutes later, she emerged with Naomi draped over her shoulder like a hundred pound bag of dog food. She levitated up and toward the southern peaks. LeOmi followed her.
Pei-Pei landed and entered a cave hidden by brush a short distance from a mountain lake. She deposited Naomi on a bed of straw, went to a nook in the wall and removed three jars. She poured some powder from each into a metal cup, placed the cup onto a small camp stove. She set the stove next to the bed and lit it. A moment later, the powders began to smolder, sending up a thin stream of smoke. Pei-Pei smiled and left the room.
LeOmi left to go tell Mark.
A few minutes later, LeOmi returned with Mark and the guards. Mark drew his sword, put on his oxy-mask and entered the cave. The others followed.
He went straight to Naomi, knelt and tried to wake her. She didn’t respond even when he held an ammonia capsule from the first aid kit under her nose. He kicked the camp stove away and lifted her into his arms.
“I need someone to take her home.”
Samantha stepped up, held out her arms and he passed her to her.
Samantha hadn’t taken two steps toward the mouth of the cave when small explosions, like gunfire, sounded all around them. Instantly, everything began moving in slow motion, except for LeOmi.
A multitude of tiny darts was moving slowly toward the center of the room away from small holes in the walls. He and LeOmi saw them at the same time and began smacking them down. She worked one side of the room while he worked the other.
Off to the side of the bed, he noticed a cloth drape painted to look like the wall beginning to move aside. He kept knocking the darts aside. There were hundreds of them. Evidently, the holes had been loaded like a shotgun.
Pei-Pei emerged from the opening. She was moving in slow motion, but not as slowly as she should have been. She must have taken something that greatly increased her speed. She was heading straight for Naomi, sword raised high in order to strike.
Pei-Pei was still several steps away, so he kept knocking the darts down while moving closer to her. She was two steps away when her sword began moving down. Mark swung and struck her sword with such speed and force that hers shattered. The shards blossomed outward. He swept his blade through the fragments heading toward Samantha and Naomi, knocking them aside.
Something stung his left shoulder blade. He sidestepped and turned. Several darts that he had missed hung in the air behind where he had just been. He smacked them down.
Things began moving faster and he felt woozy. He collapsed to the floor.
When he awoke, the others were sitting around him.
LeOmi said, “You do remember what it means if you’re killed by someone not working for Benrah?”
He looked around and said, “It means someone else takes my place, General Jones.” He sat up. “Is everyone okay?”
“Pei-Pei was dead before I got to her and the scroll has been destroyed.”
Ray said, “Hydrochloric acid, no chance of restoration.”
“That means he can’t get it.”
Naomi said, “That was a copy. The original is in the Temple of The Five Elders.”
After a moment to register what she had said, Mark asked, “Where is that?”
“It is in China, near Pei-Pei’s home.”
Chapter 8
Rudy had actually been to Fujian province in China, so he led the remanifestation to that location. They stood at the bottom of a steep, forested hill.
Rudy said, “This is as close as I ever got to the temple. Rumor says that anyone entering the woods here will be confronted by twenty Shaolin warriors. Only those that pass their challenge may proceed to the temple. I didn’t really want to see the temple anyway.”
Samantha said, “Why didn’t you go? They never challenge anyone above their ability.”
“I didn’t know that. I figured it wasn’t a good day to die.”
Mark said, “We’ll just pop in, no need to go through the woods.”
Rather than just appearing in the courtyard, he took them to the front gate, a circular opening in the ten feet tall brick wall and closed with a heavy, wooden plank door. A small bell was suspended from a spring steel strap attached to the wall beside the gate. Before he could tap it, several yellow robed monks leapt down from the top of the wall, all bearing wooden staves held at the ready.
Mark faced them and said in Mandarin, “We are travelers from the west seeking a lost treasure.”
The shortest one, an older man with a long, wispy, white moustache, placed his right fist into his left palm, nodded his head quickly and said, “You are Magi? We will see. Open the gate.”
The door rolled to the side, revealing a large open space. About a hundred yards away, a large, red stone building stood. A bronze gong stood in front of the wall of the building.
The monk said, “Ring the gong.”
Without hesitation, LeOmi produced a throwing knife and hurled it. Almost immediately, a wooden staff sailed like a spear into the path of the blade. The knife stuck into it and at the same time, a saffron clad monk was in the air, doing an axial spin. He grabbed the staff, stopped spinning and landed in a crouched position. He twirled the staff in front of him like a baton and brought it to rest under his arm while resting his right foot on his left knee and holding his left hand out with his fingers extended down, tips touching.
When he came to a rest, the courtyard seemed to explode into gymnastic activity. Nineteen other monks joined the first, forming a line between Mark’s team and their objective.
Mark chuckled, “Nice show.” He remanifested and rang the gong.
The older monk broke out in laughter. “Indeed, you are Magi.”
The line of warrior-monks turned to face Mark. He shrugged at them. They bowed and walked away single file.
The older monk, with a big smile, held his hand out toward the ga
te. “You may enter.”
As they approached Mark, the monk said to him, “It is a shame, the challenge was not worthy of your skill. I did not believe you are Magi. I will set another if you wish.”
“I am honored that you deem me worthy, but I have not come here to show off my abilities. I seek The Eleventh Scroll that was stolen from here a thousand years ago.”
“Ah... the legend of Lee Shen, it is said that he could fly, as could his followers. You wish this ability?”
LeOmi said, “He can fly already. He wishes to protect the scroll.”
Mark said, “The forces of evil are seeking it.”
“The evil forces already have it,” the monk quipped. “It was Xi Gong that stole it.”
“It hasn’t been recovered? Are there any clues to where Xi Gong hid it before he died?”
“Xi Gong is not dead!”
“How is that even possible?”
“He was cursed by a demon. He is neither dead nor alive. He exists as jing-chi-shen, not flesh, not spirit, but in between.”
“Where is he now?”
“It is said he has a fortress that none can penetrate. There is only one that may know where it is: Lo Shon. He has been searching for Xi Gong for a very long time, ever since Xi Gong killed his family. He became a sorcerer to learn what he would need to defeat Xi Gong.”
“Where can I find Lo Shon?”
“He has a herb shop as his headquarters in Shanghai. Not too easy to find, but his followers wear jade headbands so you will know it when you see them.”
Mark asked his team, “Has anyone ever been there?”
No one said anything.
The monk smiled and held his hand out. “I will take you.”
Mark said, “I do not know your name.”
The monk’s smile turned into a grin, “I am Lo Shon,” he extended his arm farther out in a formal Magi salute and continued, “Magi of The Second Mountain, Agate Tribe, Master of the Temple of Five Elders and one who seeks justice.” He looked directly at Samantha. “I am also fond of Japanese tea.”
Her face flushed and she looked surprised. “You are him! I thought you looked familiar.” She said to the rest of the group, “He’s the one that introduced me to Japanese tea. When I was stationed in Japan, I walked into a crowded teashop hoping to get a regular tea. There was only one place to sit. The older man next to it motioned me to sit on his mat.”
Lo Shon said, “We had a most pleasant conversation and some delicious tea.”
Mark said, “Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves?”
“It is not necessary. I now remember who you are from my dreams: Mark Young, born in a stable, bearer of the staff, General of the Army of Seven Friends and LeOmi Jones, fired in strife, bearer of hope and second of the Seven Friends.” He motioned his arm for everyone to grab. “Shall we go?”
* * *
Shanghai smelled bad: diesel fumes, animal dung, over-ripe fruit and stagnant river mud. The docks were filled with barges and junks moored in every place possible. Many more plied the waters nearby in the huge mouth of the Yangtze River. There was a lot of activity in and around the warehouses next to the docks.
Lo Shon pointed to the ocean with his palm up and said, “Xi Gong’s fortress is a giant turtle. Tomorrow, or the day after, they will surface to take on supplies. That is why all the boats are here.”
Mark asked, “How do you know he will come here?”
Lo Shon said, “I do not know for certain, but for more than five centuries, he surfaces here on the night of the new moon in the month of Xkshí. Roughly speaking, that is August. Xi Gong is not an ordinary foe. Come, we must prepare.”
Mark said, “I can use Spirit Sight to find the scroll. Then it’s just a matter of keeping his forces distracted while I get it.”
“He keeps spirits away by burning incense made from the sap of a special bush and sulfur.”
Mark nodded, “Frankincense and brimstone, Mr. Fairbanks said nobody used that anymore since it was easy enough to defeat; just neutralize the sulfur. He said bug bombs should work, but no one has tested them for that.”
“Not frankincense, moon blooming snowbell, which is one reason we must prepare. If you breathe it too long, it will turn your mind into that of a slave. Xi Gong uses it to keep his forces loyal and to keep evil spirits away. What is this bug bomb? I have never heard of it.”
Mark pulled one out and handed it to him. “A few years back, one of our researchers combined freeze dried fish heart and liver, water and phosphorus in a small capsule. You break it and the smoke repels evil spirits for about an hour.”
Lo Shon nodded once, “I will trade you some of my incense to defeat the sulfur for some of those.”
Mark shrugged and said, “Deal. Where do we need to go to prepare?”
Lo Shon led them to a strange looking carriage several blocks away. It looked like an old horse-drawn wagon made of bronze and converted to run on steam. The wagon wheels on the back were on the outside and seemed overly large. A stack of firewood sat in the middle of the carriage beside what had to be the boiler.
He climbed onto the seat in the front, repositioned a lever on the floor and the boiler groaned. There was no firebox under the boiler; he must have been using a Magi power source, probably a mini-fusion generator.
He motioned to them, “Get on, get on.”
As soon as they were seated, the machine lurched forward. Half an hour later they stopped in front of some shops in an old business district. Lo Shon led them into a dusty doorway next to where he parked.
The little shop was crowded with displays of many odd-smelling powders and exotic dried things hanging from the ceiling. Two workers, wearing green headbands knotted on the side, were weighing and packaging items for several customers. Lo Shon led Mark and his group into a back room and they sat around a large table.
“What do you know of Chinese sorcery?” he asked.
Mark translated for Naomi.
Naomi answered in Ethiopian, “I know some; I studied it.”
Lo Shon answered in the same language, “Is that so? Why is it that I do not know of you? Who was your master, or did you read a book?”
“Both, I read a copy of the Eleventh Scroll and Ma Pei-Pei was my master.”
Anger transformed Lo Shon’s face. He slapped the table with his palms and stood, “Pei-Pei! You are a fool to study under that thief and liar. The second most evil person I know of. If I could find her, I would kill her myself.”
“That would be difficult. She is already dead.”
He nodded vigorously, “That is good.” He paused before sitting back down. “That is good. Did you kill her?”
She shook her head and pointed at Mark, “He did.”
Mark said, “Her sword shattered and a piece cut her throat. What is the plan and how do we prepare?”
“The plan is, I enter as a worker carrying supplies. I find Xi Gong and kill him with a special weapon.” He held up a dagger with a squiggly blade and a green handle. He said with a tone of awe in his voice, “The Dagger of Green Fire was forged long ago in the heart of the Earth by... a demon of fire!” He paused for effect then continued with a bit of glee in his voice. “It is the only weapon that can kill him. It took me years to track it down.” He stabbed into the corner of the table and a bright green luminescence began spreading around the tip. He pulled the knife back and the wood that had been green turned to ash and fell to the floor.
Mark said, “It may not be the only weapon. At any rate, how do we fit into your plan?”
“My plan did not involve you, but having you is fortuitous. Your attack coming first will lessen suspicions for my attack.” He stood, walked to a cupboard and returned with a flask and several small bottles. “When you enter his fortress, this will guard you from the snowbell; one dab on your forehead every hour will protect your chi.” He returned to the cupboard and came back with a cloth bag. “This is the incense to defeat the sulfur.”
Mark placed a handful
of the bug bombs on the table. “If you need more, let me know.”
“You know of another weapon?”
“Maybe, but my purpose is not to kill him. I must recover the Eleventh Scroll. If I can find the scroll with Spirit Sight, there may be no need for us to attack.”
“I think you underestimate his defenses. He equips his patrols with aura glass as well as his security cameras. Your spirit will be visible to them.”
“How is he equipped to deal with weather?”
“He stays under the water most of the time. All the outside walls are metal so lightning has no effect. He has huge pumps for flooding. There have been storms with strong winds. I do not think they even noticed when they were under the water. Attacking his fortress is foolhardy.”
Ray chuckled, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Chenoa, one of Mark’s captains, would probably disagree with you too, as would a few submariners I know.”
“You are mistaken my friend. He has been in these waters for more than five hundred years. The eight immortals could not find him and no navy has ever seen his vessel. It was just this year that I learned he resupplies here. It seems everyone has no memory of his visits. They just remember it as a festival where they sold everything they brought. The festival has happened every year for the last five hundred years.”
Mark asked, “What else are we going to need?”
* * *
The next morning just after sunrise, a festival erupted in the streets around the docks, complete with street performers, parades led by Chinese cloth-dragons issuing great puffs of smoke from their mouths, brightly clad dancers and acrobats, and costumed heroes throwing strings of firecrackers into the crowds. Xi Gong’s city-ship, as big as a cruise liner, sat a half-mile off shore.
Lo Shon said, “I see why no one remembers much. That smoke has to be how he drugs everyone.” He produced a flask, took a swig and handed it to Mark. “It will protect your mind for a few hours.”
It smelled awful. He took a swig. It tasted the same. He passed it to LeOmi.
