by Ino Lee
Jaguan questioned him at one particular stop.
“Do you hear something? What draws your suspicion?”
“The forest moves,” Toutoumo said. “Sometimes it is right. Sometimes it is not.”
“I see,” Jaguan said, unsure.
Despite his strange behavior, Wong was completely engrossed in Toutoumo’s actions and found his anecdotes fascinating. Mixed in between the lore and superstition, there was true value and hidden knowledge. Throughout his life, he focused on learning as many disciplines as possible from as many sources as he could find, including monks, samurais, ninjas, weaponsmiths, and even dragons, but this was something new. This was his first opportunity to learn directly from inhabitants of the Koon Kagi, and he found it refreshing, especially since his chi had turned dark and things had become increasingly stale.
At one swampy juncture, Toutoumo excitedly found a slug. He squeezed it and wiped slime from his fingers on the blade of his knife.
“Who wants some?”
“Does that extend the life of your blade?” Jaguan asked.
“Sembu slug slime. Cleans unan tar. Breaks down their flesh.”
“I’ll take some,” Wong said.
He touched the slime and rubbed it between his fingers.
“How effective is it?”
“Cleans good.”
“I mean on the unan. Can it be used as a weapon?”
“Won’t kill them, but they don’t like it much.”
“Fascinating. I wonder what else we could learn from each other.”
Renshu took some with a fingertip and did the unthinkable. He put it in his mouth.
“Tastes good too.”
Hours later, they stopped to rest on drier ground. Toutoumo warned they would soon cross heavily populated dark ninja territory, though the late afternoon would give them a few more hours before activity picked up.
Wong used the break to take his staff back from Renshu and examine it. The time had come to return some teachings.
“This is the Dragon Arm.” He held it up. “It is bonded with the chi of a dragon.”
“A dragon?” Renshu said. “How?”
“It was infused with the metal on his last dying breath.”
“You knew him?”
“Yes.”
“Magaus believe dragons are bad. Their lands—off limits.”
“Some are. But it was not long ago that we believed all magaus were bad too.”
“What was this dragon like?”
“One might say he was a king of dragons.”
“Ah, king just like Renshu.”
“Yes.”
He held the weapon out to Renshu.
“You already have something in common. Concentrate and see if you can connect with it. Become one with the weapon.”
Renshu gave him an odd look.
“Just do it,” Wong said.
Renshu concentrated for a while.
“This is silly. It is a metal stick.”
“Don’t you meditate? You have dark chi. How do you channel it?”
“For battle I scream loud.”
“That won’t work. How else? How about in the mud pool?”
“To heal? I . . . meditate. I am calm. I let the chi soothe.”
“Do that. Meditate and connect with the Dragon Arm like the chi in the mud, then project it like battle. Except don’t scream.”
Renshu focused again.
Before long, the runes on the Dragon Arm turned a purplish hue.
“Good. Now feel the mace end in your mind and imagine it returning to normal.”
Nothing happened. Wong touched the weapon after a time and concentrated.
“Your energy is there, but you need to manipulate it. Let me show you.”
The Dragon Arm lengthened and flattened back to a straight metal staff. Wong let go.
“How did you do that?” Renshu said.
“You did it.”
“I did?”
“My energy did not change the staff. I manipulated yours.”
Renshu shook the weapon in his hands. “I did not know such a thing could exist.”
“It may not work the same for you as it once did for me,” Wong said. “The dragon had light chi; yours is dark. But the weapon responds, so you can at least manipulate it somewhat. You already have.”
“It will be an excellent weapon.”
“Don’t think of it as a weapon. Think of it as an extension of your arm.”
“Got it.” Renshu nodded. “Just like my arm.”
They traveled again. Jaguan felt the yin chi of the land wear on his body and spirit, or perhaps it was the drab and depressing feel of the forest. He yearned for the Staff of Shaolin, which would have shielded him from the dark energy, but at least four vials of chi water still hung from his neck. His thoughts shifted to the Temple of Masks. How would the radiance pool affect his abilities? Would he be able to take down a kaigun-shur? He was not so sure. Ingesting a vial of chi water before entering the temple was probably a good precaution.
By the time nightfall neared, they looked for shelter. They would rest and hide till daybreak, deciding it best to avoid the night eyes of the ninjas. Toutoumo stopped in front of a large briar patch and considered sleeping there, but Wong snapped off a branch and examined a curved thorn almost the length of his finger. He suggested they move on.
They soon stumbled into a dead grove and found something noteworthy—a large hollow tree to shelter in. The tree’s upper limbs had broken off, but its thick trunk was large enough to hold them all with room to spare. One side had a large gap for an entrance and the top opened to the sky. Some work would have to be done to prepare it, but it was as good an option as any.
They worked together to clean out the center of the trunk and bring in fresh leaves for matting. Toutoumo left to forage for material to close off the side opening for better concealment, while Wong made Renshu meditate inside with the Dragon Arm against his forehead until Toutoumo returned.
Jaguan sat away on an overturned log. Wong stepped away from the trunk to give Renshu time alone to meditate. He surveyed the dead landscape and wondered what caused the trees to die.
“Dead like this land,” Jaguan commented.
“Let’s just hope we don’t become part of it.”
Wong took a seat beside him.
“So what are you thinking about, Jaguan?”
“This is an unexpected journey, is it not?”
“It is, even for me.”
“So much to challenge what we once knew, to change our understanding of the world.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. We met some monkeys.”
“I should have known better to—”
“All right. You’re right. So not all of the Koon Kagi is bad.”
“It’s more than that, Wong. It is their use of dark chi. Everything we were taught by the monks told us that dark chi is demonic, opposite to the light of Shaolin. Yet here we are, fighting side by side.”
“There’s another thing you don’t know about. Back at the magau prison, we fought zhuks. Renshu is able to attain chi fai. They are more like us than we care to admit.”
Jaguan was surprised. “Chi fai?”
“They are just like us. They can be allies. They need our help although they don’t realize it.”
“They are resilient creatures.”
“They are outmatched and boxed in. It is only a matter of time.”
“Perhaps. One more reason to destroy the Temple of Masks.”
“I suppose.”
Jaguan thought for a while. “I owe you an apology.”
Wong raised a brow.
“Perhaps we were wrong about your use of dark chi, Wong. Perhaps it can be harnessed just as the magau harness it.”
<
br /> Wong fell silent.
“No comments?” Jaguan said. “Now of all times, you hold your tongue?”
“I don’t know. It’s funny how we always take the other side. We must have said that a dozen times by now.”
“What is your meaning?”
“I was just coming to the conclusion that you may be right and the dark chi is dangerous.”
“Why do you say this?”
“When do you think it was that our adversarial relationship began? Was it from the beginning?”
Jaguan was taken aback by the change in conversation, though he did not fight it.
“No, not from the beginning. I admired your skill. It was when you stole the vial of core Infinity water and I caught you.”
“You admired my skill back then?”
“I did.”
“Didn’t seem like it.”
“Perhaps I was a little jealous of all the attention Shaolin gave you . . . quite unbecoming of a monk. When I saw you steal the water—that may have played into it. We were so young. But you were so smug and unrepentant too.”
Wong laughed. “I was.”
Jaguan laughed too.
“Do you know why I did it?” Wong said.
“Steal the water?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought it was just Wong being Wong.”
“No. Well maybe.” He laughed again. “I overheard Master Woo and Tienkow talking about me. They worried about my growing ability to see in the dark and thought the mark was having adverse affects on me. You see, they worried about me being damaged from the very start.”
“So you stole the vial as rebellion?”
“I was trying to cure myself.”
Jaguan felt bad, finally seeing Wong in a different light. He wondered if their entire history might have hinged on that one event.
“I wish I had known then.”
“We were young.”
They heard movement nearby. Toutoumo returned from the woods with a large bundle of bark, branches, and moss.
“Do you need help?” Wong said.
Toutoumo shook his head. “I’m okay.”
He continued past them toward the shelter.
Jaguan spoke again. “Why did you say before that you had changed your mind on the nature of your dark chi?”
“The unan masks—they affect me. They change my behavior. I thought it was just Shenren, but it is Houzon too. When we were back in the prison, I toyed with a ninja and held onto its weapon. Silly, foolish. It was not entirely me, but then Renshu said something that got my attention . . .”
“What did he say?”
“He said Houzon wouldn’t do that.”
Wong examined the magau mask.
“The thing is, if it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Houzon, then who was it?”
Jaguan already knew. “The unan.”
“I think it is possible to use yin chi as the magaus do and not be demonic. But how did I get it? By being marked, being possessed, absorbing bits of their being. The unan masks, they can function to absorb the likeness and abilities of the things they are made of, and perhaps that is being passed onto me, including the unan.”
“It may only affect you while you wear them—not turn you into a demon.”
“Maybe. It is difficult to tell. I still have nightmares. I don’t know if there is still the lo-shur inside of me that is harnessing the unan’s ability. In this dark land, my chi has grown stronger. I am afraid it will activate something dormant within me. Something the masks only hint at. I don’t know what I am.”
“You are the Weapons Master.”
Wong sighed. “I stopped being that a long time ago.”
“Then be just plain Wong.”
“I can’t even keep up with the magaus’ jokes anymore.”
“There is more to you than jokes.”
Wong scanned the dead forest and heard Toutoumo working on the shelter. He felt a strange camaraderie with everyone there.
“There’s a reason I wanted you to come with me on this mission.”
“To help you kill the kaigun-shur.”
“Is that really why you came?”
“Yes.”
“Why else?”
“We talked about this.”
“You came to watch me in case I turned.”
“In part. You cannot fault—”
“I don’t. That’s why I wanted you to come. You’re the only one strong enough to stop me.”
“I will not fail you.”
“If I lose control and turn demonic, I will wreck havoc on Shaolin. I will be worse than a kaigun-shur. You have to promise me you won’t let that happen, whatever it takes.”
“Of course.”
Wong looked straight at him. “Whatever it takes.”
“What are you saying?”
“If I turn, you have to kill me.”
29
THIRTY-EIGHT SHAOLIN WARRIORS huddled in and around the infamous Black Mountain, the largest peak in the Forbidden Range, a towering mass of rock that looked charred from dragon breath. Li, Shian, and Xiong hid low to the ground, behind an elevated rock formation central to the anticipated path of the unan.
“The perimeter is wide,” Xiong said. “We are spread thin.”
“Any more and we risk detection, from either unan or dragon,” Li said. “This cursed territory has too few places to hide and this mountain seems to have attracted an unusual amount of attention.”
“I suppose we are fortunate to have made it this far. This appears to be where the one hundred unan crossed. We passed quite a few tar remains.”
“It would explain the dragons.”
Shian broke from concentration. “The monks are ready. We maintain a psychic link. We will know when Lafay and Lau Gong arrive and can converge.”
“It should be soon, I think. The sun is down,” Xiong said.
They waited patiently. Li studied a map of the area with the markings of Shaolin squadrons dimly lit by light from his hand. Each squadron consisted of three to four warriors, including at least one monk to provide coordination and communication. Additionally, a handful of individual scouts were deployed ahead of them, watching over four different paths leading to the mountain.
Xiong fiddled with a bow, armed with a quiver of chi arrows.
“Incoming dragon from the east,” Shian said.
The majestic creature slinked through the sky and landed on a low ridge nearby. It seemed as if the beast kept watch, complicating matters.
“This is not good,” Xiong said.
“Another dragon straight ahead,” Shian said.
A guttural growl preceded the shadow of wings as the dragon passed overhead, settling somewhere high on the mountain above them.
Li spoke with frustration. “They patrol from the sky all day, yet settle now.”
“What should we do? If we take action on the unan, the dragons will investigate. They are unpredictable,” Shian said.
“Chances are they spit fire on all.”
“They are guarding against more unan crossing now that it is dark,” Xiong said. “Fire is worse for them, but I fear for Kai.”
“We could make our presence known to them,” Shian said. She touched the side of her forehead. “The monks seek instruction.”
Li scrunched his face. “Hold steady. If we make our presence known we may lose the unan. We will have to get to them before the dragons do. And something tells me the dragons would not take kindly to thirty-eight Shaolin warriors in their midst anyway.”
Shian nodded and relayed the message.
Partial cloud cover shielded the stars, providing abundant darkness for the demons to sneak by. They could not let that happen. When the moment was right, they would converge and attack.
&nb
sp; “We have them,” Shian said. “The second path. Kai is awake and in contact with the forward scout.”
“Tell scouts one, three, and four to relocate. Careful. Do not alert the dragons,” Li said.
Shian nodded.
The unan traversed steadily and quickly down the path, darting from position to position, and finally coming into view of Black Mountain.
The dragon stirred on the adjacent hilltop. Li worried that the demons would not see the fire-breathing guardian and have to be warned before Kai turned into a flaming sack, but the unan saw the danger and skirted under a rocky overhang.
Slowly, Lafay’s white mask peered out and studied the dragon’s ledge, then turned to the mountain and did the same. It seemed as if the demon stared straight at them.
“Oh no,” Shian said. “They know.”
Lafay peered from the ledge, noting the dragon.
“Just one—we can get by.”
“Let’s go then,” Lau Gong barked.
“Wait . . . just one second.”
It peered at the mountain and giggled.
“We have friends. Shaolin friends.”
“Where?”
“In the mountain.”
“How many?”
“Too many.”
“Let’s kill him now and be over with it then.”
“No, not this close to the Koon Kagi. We are almost home. Do not wait for me. I will distract.”
“What—”
Lafay burst from cover and made straight for the mountain.
“Converge,” Li yelled.
The theater mask zigzagged across the range, flailing its arms, and laughing hysterically. Its maniacal cackle bounced off the barren corridors, echoing from all angles—an assault of pure lunacy.
The dragons leapt from their positions and took to the air, swooping toward the flamboyant target. Light orbs popped around Lafay as the demon closed in on the Shaolin warriors. It dodged an arrow as hot fire spewed from the sky, scattering them.
