The Mammoth Book of Extreme Fantasy

by Mike Ashley

  “We’ll patrol around the entire length of the temple together,” I instructed Bang Zhou. “If we see anything, we’ll use the lantern and mirror and call out for the other apprentices to help.”

  “What if it’s not a demon? Or what if the lantern doesn’t work? Shouldn’t we have swords?” asked Bang Zhou.

  “Master Lao said the lantern should be effective,” I answered. But then a snake of doubt uncoiled its head as I remembered how unnaturally strong Old Man Zhang’s head had been. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have swords,” I concluded. “Run in and fetch one for each of us.”

  “Chou Lin….” whispered a strangely familiar female voice as soon as Bang Zhou had disappeared.

  “Who’s there?” I asked shining my lantern into the gloom of the courtyard.

  “Why, it’s just me Chou Lin,” answered the voice, and when I turned I saw Orange Blossom’s face staring at me from the edge of the torchlight.

  “Orange Blossom!” I said, stepping towards her, flooded with a feeling of relief. But then I stopped, uneasy. “But I thought you were dead!”

  “Oh no, that wasn’t me!” she said, laughing her delightful peasant giggle in a way that sounded slightly strange. “That was another girl that looked like me. When that horrible thing came in through the window I escaped out into the woods. I’ve been out there all day. Oh, Chou Lin I’m so cold! I wasn’t able to grab any clothes before I escaped…”

  This particular detail interested me greatly, but there was still something that didn’t quite add up. “What was the other girl doing in your room?”

  Orange Blossom laughed again. “We were doing something terribly naughty! So naughty I can only whisper it. Come closer and I’ll tell you.”

  This too interested me greatly, but it was at this moment that I finally remembered to think with the large head rather than the small one. I held up the lantern and aimed it at Orange Blossom.

  Orange Blossom’s head recoiled and hissed at the sudden radiance, which revealed, just as I feared, the absence of her body and a long trail of viscera floating behind her. “You fool!” she screamed. “You had to go and ruin it! I’ll do it the hard way!”

  At that she flew straight for me, her unnaturally long teeth now visible. Her rush was so quick I had no time to think, whirling around and bringing the lantern in an arc head-on into her face, sending her recoiling away, a scream of pain on her lips.

  “You wretched little worm!” she screamed, her pale face turning red where the lantern had connected. “You’ll pay for that! Your pain will be unimaginable!”

  “Orange Blossom, please, don’t do this! Remember all we shared when you were alive!”

  “Shared?” She let out a cruel, chilling laugh. “We never shared anything. You bought me like you bought chickens at the market! And I pretended to love you to keep the coins coming. ‘Oh Chou Lin, you’re the best! Of course I love you!’” She laughed again. “Look at the strutting, arrogant ox-herder, so proud of his kung fu, and his position at the temple, and his pitiful lovemaking. You weren’t even the best among the temple apprentices! Kua Qing is a better lover than you’ll ever be!” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You know, he was so good, I often let him visit for free.”

  “Be gone, demon,” I said, thrusting the lantern towards her again. “I will not listen to your lies!”

  “What’s the matter, Chou Lin, don’t you have five coins on you to buy my body with? Oh wait, I don’t have a body anymore.” At that she let loose another cruel laugh, then snarled and dove for another attack.

  I launched a palm-heel strike to send her spinning back, then grabbed the floating trail of viscera, swung her around a couple of times, sending her spinning out into the courtyard, a move I instantly regretted.

  My hands, now covered with the vile, unnatural secretions of her demonic organs, immediately began to tingle unpleasantly, followed quickly by a painful burning sensation. I dropped the lantern and pulled off my robe, trying to dry my hands.

  Orange Blossom took that opportunity to attack again. With my hands trapped, all I could do was wrap the rest of the robe around her.

  There followed a most ignoble episode of my being dragged across the courtyard as Orange Blossom attempted to escape my robe’s confines. I was shocked at the strength a single flying head could display, though in life certain parts of Orange Blossom’s body had displayed a remarkably strong grip. She finally wriggled free, and I took this opportunity to race back to the lantern, Orange Blossom in hot pursuit.

  “Chou Lin?” asked Bang Zhou incredulously, having finally located the swords.

  “The mirror!” I screamed. “Quickly!”

  For a moment, Bang Zhou looked stunned, then came to his senses and held up the mirror. I quickly directed the lantern’s beam at it, which Bang Zhou moved to reflect squarely at Orange Blossom’s head. She let out a scream as she burst into flames, then quickly fled over the wall, leaving a trail of sparks behind as she escaped into to the night.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “Just my pride.”

  Kua Qing and Dai Li relieved us at midnight, and the rest of the night passed without incident. The next morning, Jade Willow shot me a dirty look over the ruins of my robe, as if flying monsters were part of a complex plot to deplete the temple’s meager clothing budget. (I will admit that a certain incident or two in the past requiring her to spend several hours removing plum wine stains from my robes may have contributed to her prejudice.)

  Master Lao and Xau Qu returned from Feng’s just as breakfast was being served. (Though Master Lao has the lean, muscled body appropriate to a kung fu master, I have noticed that he never misses a meal, and I have always sought to emulate him in this regard.) His night had passed without any sign from the Kongbu Feixing Tou, and Master Lao listened with great interest to my description of Orange Blossom’s visit (though I did omit certain slanderous lies she told as not being relevant to the matter at hand).

  “Maybe the worst is over,” said Master Lao. “Without a third victim, they won’t be able to consecrate their temple. But just in case, I want Kua Qing and Bang Zhou to bring back branches from a weeping mulberry today.”

  That said, Master Lao wrote down the needs for that night’s festival and sent me out to procure them, then went to his room to sleep while he could.

  Kua Qing returned with the weeping mulberry branches, and Master Lao brought us into his study to observe how arrows were crafted and consecrated. First the ends were cut off with a blessed knife, then the bark was carefully stripped away with a special circular tool. Next the shafts were cleansed in purified water, then again in salt.

  Master Lao wrote out several prayers against evil, burned each in a silver tray, sifted the ashes into the ink dish, then pricked his thumb and let a single drop of blood fall into the concoction. He wrote out a very specific prayer against evil in a tiny hand on a slip of parchment, then carefully rolled it around the arrow shaft, repeating the process until he had 20 blessed shafts laying in various states of drying.

  Next he took out a bag of eagle feathers, sorting through it for suitable candidates. Finally, he feathered and pointed each shaft. Though I’m sure a true fletcher could have done better and quicker work, each seemed lethal and well-honed.

  That accomplished, Master Lao placed the arrows in a quiver, then took down the ceremonial bow which hung on his west wall, both of which he handed over to Kua Qing. (As much as it pains me to admit it, bowmanship is the one area of martial arts where Kua Qing’s prowess exceeds my own. However, I attribute this to an entirely inadvertent incident early in my apprenticeship that resulted in my being banned from using the bow for three months, thus allowing Kua Qing to gain an unfair advantage.)

  However, any pleasure Kua Qing had in this assignment was shortlived. Since the events of the last few days had interrupted our usual kung fu training, Master Lao decided to put us through a particularly grueling two-hour workout.

  As twilight descended, W
idow Zi came waddling up to the temple. She was a pleasant, matronly woman whose husband had been executed for smuggling opium by a most unpleasant method involving blocks of granite, a brazier, and a long, thin metal rod. She arrived out of breath and Master Lao invited her in to sit down. While Jade Willow made tea, she asked if anyone had seen Gau Lou that day.

  Gau Lou was a local handyman who lived in a shack at the far end of the village. He never did work at the temple because my fellow apprentices and I were always available to provide manual labour. He was supposed to visit that morning to help clear brush around her house, but had never shown up. The news seemed to disturb Master Lao, who sent me to fetch the village map.

  “Can you show me where Gau Lou’s shack is?” he asked.

  Widow Zi took a few moments to find her own house on the map, then pointed to a clearing near the forest. “There.”

  Master Lao made a charcoal mark, then brought out and laid down his reeds again, forming another triangle. This time the center of the triangle was centered on a large building near the center of the village.

  “What’s that?” asked Kua Qing.

  “Spring Moon’s noodle house,” said Master Lao. “Quick, gather everyone up! We must go over there immediately!”

  Master Lao quickly sorted through his prayer cabinet, procuring items for the coming battle: his herbal medicine kit, the lantern and mirror, rice paper and ink, several swords, two spears made from an ash tree, a bowl of sticky rice, and Kua Qing’s bow and arrows.

  We raced over to Spring Moon’s. When we arrived, the door was closed, the screens drawn and the lanterns off. Master Lao banged on the door several times. It was finally unlocked and Spring Moon, her hair down, looked out quizzically. “Oh, Master Lao, it’s you. Is there something wrong?”

  Master Lao bowed apologetically. “Very possibly, madam. Please allow us to inspect your premises to ensure you come to no harm.”

  We entered quickly and formed a circle around Master Lao and Spring Moon, scanning the area for signs of the Kongbu Feixing Tou in the flickering lantern light. Except for the lovely Autumn Wind walking out of the kitchen, the building seemed empty.

  “Check the windows,” said Master Lao, and we moved to comply.

  “What’s going on?” asked Autumn Wind.

  “There’s a great evil at loose in the night,” said Master Lao. “Are all the windows barred and charmed?”

  Each of us went forward to verify that each window was locked, and that charms against evil were situated in each corner, a silk string connecting each to each in the shape of an X. We all nodded in turn indicating that our window was secure.

  “Let me check the windows upstairs,” said Autumn Wind, already starting up.

  “It might be dangerous…” Master Lao began, but by that time I was already racing up the stairs just behind her. I arrived at her side just as she reached the second floor.

  “It is dangerous for you to be up here alone!”

  At that she smiled and I felt my heart melt again. “I already feel safer with you here, though I think you’re being silly. There’s nothing up here, but we can check the windows together.”

  We did so, and each appeared to be closed and properly charmed. The building appeared to be protected.

  “See? Nothing to worry about,” she said, smiling.

  I returned her smile, but something nagged the back of my mind. “Is there no other way in? How about a back door? Or the chimney?”

  “No, the back door is locked. And the flue is always closed when we’re not cooking.”

  I looked around, then up. “What about the skylight? Is it locked?”

  She frowned. “No, I didn’t think of that. But who could possibly get in from the roof?”

  Faced with the difficulty of explaining the exact nature of the evil loose, I avoid it entirely. “It should be locked just like the windows and doors.”

  “There’s no lock on it,” she said, “but I suppose we can tie it down.” At that she had me fetch a small ladder, which she braced against the nearest pillar and started up.

  “Do you need any help?” I asked.

  “No, I can do it,” she said, reaching for a black rope caught under the edge of the skylight door.

  Only it wasn’t a rope.

  Autumn Wind screamed as the thing coiled around her hand, then jerked her upward as the skylight door flew open. Instantly I leapt up onto the ladder and grabbed her foot before she could be pulled out by her inhuman assailant.

  Whatever writhing thing that gripped her was strong, but not quite strong enough to lift both of us. Still gripping Autumn Wind’s foot, I leapt up and wrapped my legs around the pillar, pulling against the creature with all my might. Inch by inch I gained against it, Autumn Wind screaming all the while. I began to think I might be able to best it, when another half-dozen ropy tentacles descended from the darkness to grip Autumn Wind’s arms and head. Suddenly I was wrenched from the pillar by the unseen foe’s inhuman strength, and feared that both of us were doomed to be pulled into the night when I felt two hands gripping each of my ankles.

  I looked back and saw Xau Qu and Bang Zhou hanging on. For once Xau Qu’s bulk served him well, as the fiend we fought was not strong enough to lift all four of us. However, it still lurched and heaved against us, causing us to jerk and ripple like a segmented festival dragon. Painful as this was, my discomfort was increased by the disparity in weight between Xau Qu and Bang Zhou. However, Xau Qu had his own cause of complaint, as every jerk sent his head crashing into the pillar, each eliciting most strong and unpriestly oaths from his lips. And I can only imagine how much more agonizing the entire struggle must have been for poor Autumn Wind.

  My own discomfort increased momentarily when the limber Bang Zhou climbed up my body as though it were a rope, then gripped my hair most painfully with one hand while he pulled a sword from his belt. Then, timing the swings, he leapt up to slash through the tangle wrapped around Autumn Wind’s head. For a moment we had the advantage, but Bang Zhou’s blow caused the beast to jerk so violently that a momentarily stunned Xau Qu lost his grip.

  Though her head was free, Autumn Wind’s arms were still in the monster’s clutches. Bang Zhou raised his sword for another chop, when the strands holding Autumn Wind’s right hand suddenly let go, only to instantly wrap themselves around Bang Zhou’s swordarm. With a wrenching jerk, the sword fell from his grasp. I caught it as it fell, and it was now my turn to leap up and grab Autumn Wind’s arm with one hand, while severing the strands that bound Bang Zhou.

  Suddenly, the beast released its last grip on Autumn Wind and all three of us fell heavily to floor, scattering tables and chairs in our wake.

  “Are you all right?” I asked Autumn Wind.

  “My ankles hurt, and I think I’m an inch taller,” replied Autumn Wind, “but other than that I’m AGGGGGGHHHHHH!”

  Autumn Wind held out her arm, and the source of her distress became apparent. The black, ropey strands entangling her were revealed to be braided hair. Moreover, the strands still wrapped around her wrists seemed alive, and slithered steadily up her arms like snakes up a tree branch.

  Dai Li and Ba Le came running up the stairs, spears in hand, as Bang Zhou and I each pulled the animate hair off Autumn Wind. “Quick, get a prayer lantern!” I instructed as the braids writhed in our hands. When Lai Wang brought the lantern, Bang Zhou and I both consigned the unnatural locks to its flame. As they burned, there was a terrible scream above the noodle house.

  Then the skylight door flew open, and they descended.

  Orange Blossom was there, and Old Man Zhang, and Gau Lou, who I vaguely recognized. But all our eyes were inevitably drawn towards the inescapable presence of the Kongbu Feixing Tou Queen.

  She possessed a cold, inhuman beauty, with pale skin, high cheekbones, long, thin fangs, and onyx eyes with cats-eye pupils of fire. All around her, several yards in every direction, floated myriad ropey tresses of lustrous black hair, each of which seemed to writhe of
its own accord. However, it was what was in her hair which was most alarming of all.

  Dozens of shriveled heads, pale skin stretched like parchment over their skulls, floated entangled in her hair. Their eyes were dead except for tiny flames in each orb, pale reflections of their Queen’s fiery visage. Each of their mouths moved wordlessly, issuing the rattling, hissing sound of a dying old man’s laboured breathing.

  “Well, look what we have here!” she said in archaic Mandarin. “A clutch of fresh and juicy worms for the nest! If you think your old man’s pathetic bush magic will thwart my will you are sadly mistaken!”

  “Demon, I’ve faced far worse than you before,” said Master Lao, raising his staff. “Be gone from this place, or face your own destruction!”

  “Your soul will make a most splendid feast, little priest!” At that her unnatural hair convulsed, sending a screaming horde of her skull minions flying towards us, teeth bared.

  Thrusting Autumn Wind towards the stairs behind me, I split the first attacker in half with Bang Zhou’s sword, and then struck another a glancing blow. Ba Le managed to skewer still another, but both he and Dai Li were quickly forced to use their spears as staffs as more and more attacked. Behind us, the other apprentices lobbed sticky rice prayer balls at the horrors, and where their shots connected the skulls blackened and fell to the ground. But every time one was destroyed, two more seemed to take its place. Soon there were too many to stand against, and I and the other apprentices fought a desperate withdrawal down the stairway.

  “The lantern!” cried Master Lao. “Quickly!”

  Lai Wang unhooded the lantern and directed it towards Master Lao, who reflected the beam off the octagonal silver mirror and into the creatures. The beam caught one of the flying skulls squarely, and it uttered a horrifying shriek, then exploded in a shower of dust. So too, when the beam passed across Gau Lou’s head, his hair burst into flame before he fled its radiance. Soon Gau Lou’s panicked flight resulted in several small fires around the noodle house, Spring Moon and Autumn Wind following frantically in his wake with pitchers of water to douse the flames.