The Dragon Warrior

by Katie Zhao

  “He was horsing around,” Alex offered. Ren burst out laughing, and even Moli stopped sulking to crack a smile.

  Yulong’s face turned bright red. “That is not funny!”

  “Who are these mortals?” the unsmiling guard asked. “And how did they even get here?”

  “Dragons,” I blurted out. “Lots and lots of dragons.”

  Alex elbowed me. “The guards are testing us. This is where we fulfill the last part of the riddle.”

  “Right,” I said. “Which is …?”

  He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Finally, prove the tests have been fulfilled to gain entry to Peng Lai Island.”

  “What are we whispering about?” Moli whispered. Ren and Yulong leaned in, too.

  “We’re trying to decide how we’re supposed to prove that we’ve fulfilled the tests,” Alex explained. “Maybe we just present them to the guards in order.”

  “Present what to them?” Ren asked.

  “You,” Moli said in a duh tone of voice. “And you,” she added with a nod to Yulong.

  Ren pointed to Yulong, and then at himself. “U-us?”

  “You and all the other dragons.” She patted Ren on the shoulder, and added, “Try to look a little cooler than that,” and, pulling him by the hand, swaggered over to the entrance.

  “What does she think she’s doing?” Alex spluttered, but he looked more awed than angered.

  Moli tossed her hair over her shoulder, which did nothing to impress the stone-faced guards. “We’ve fulfilled the quests.”

  “Are you the Heaven Breaker?” one of the guards asked.

  “Excuse you,” said Moli, “I’m way cooler than—”

  I interrupted her with a throat-clearing cough. “Moli, I can handle this.”

  Moli sniffed and folded her arms across her chest.

  “I’m the Heaven Breaker, come to claim my place as the Jade Emperor’s general,” I announced. I was grateful that my voice didn’t crack despite the fact that I’d never been more petrified in my entire life, not even when Mao discovered that I’d been the one to switch out all her ketchup for hot sauce when I was nine. I still maintain that that masterful prank was worth the punishment, though.

  As I spoke, the glow around Fenghuang grew brighter than ever before. And somehow, I knew what to do to prove I’d passed the Jade Emperor’s tests of valor.

  Dragons, come to me. The Heaven Breaker commands it.

  Out loud, I declared, “First, we found the city named after the Empress—Phoenix—and rescued the animal named after the Emperor—the dragon.”

  I turned around, meeting Ren’s eyes. His eyebrows were scrunched together, but he stepped forward and gave the guards a nervous smile and half-hearted wave. “Hi.”

  Then I said, “Second, we traveled east to the city of the goddess who brings sleep, to free the fallen beasts.”

  At these words, the spear grew so hot under my hands that I could barely stand to hold it. I gritted my teeth. As the seconds passed, each one lasting an eternity, the atmosphere grew tenser.

  Then, from up above came a great rushing noise. I inhaled sharply in relief. The dragons we’d freed from Chuangmu’s prison flew in circles high above us.

  Turning back to the guards, I continued. “Third, we found the city in quiet ruins and reclaimed a lost treasure.”

  Moli pushed Yulong forward with a proud smile. “That’s my horse—I mean, cursed dragon prince, now un-cursed. It’s complicated. You know how it is.”

  The guards exchanged questioning looks, clearly not “knowing how it is.”

  “It seems the Heaven Breaker has fulfilled her quest,” one murmured to the other.

  “Not yet,” said the other. “There is one more riddle that the Heaven Breaker herself must solve in order to gain entrance to the island. This time, you may not receive help from your friends.”

  “Seriously?” I groaned under my breath.

  Alex slapped his forehead. “Great. We’re all doomed.”

  “Hey,” I protested. I’d helped him solve riddles. I wasn’t that hopeless.

  “Don’t worry. This riddle is more straightforward,” said the guard, beckoning me closer. I gulped and stepped toward him, and he spoke into my ear. “What is the most important quality that the Heaven Breaker can possess?”

  I could’ve cried with relief. This was easy. Ye Ye had said it himself, hadn’t he, with one of his last breaths? A warrior always puts others above himself or herself.

  “Take your time, Faryn,” Alex called. “A few deep yoga breaths always helps me—”

  “I’ve got it,” I blurted out. “It’s—”

  But then the word selflessness got caught somewhere in the back of my throat. The question had been phrased oddly, I realized. The guard had asked specifically about the Heaven Breaker. Not warriors.

  As the Heaven Breaker, master of Fenghuang and dragons, the most important and consistent thing I’d done was not being selfless, but praying to the gods for power. The answer came to me, almost as though someone had whispered it in my head.

  After a long, drawn-out moment, I said, “Obedience to the gods.”

  Neither guard said anything. I took a deep breath and hoped I’d gotten it right. Even though responding with “obedience to the gods” left a bad taste in my mouth, that had to be the right answer.

  Right?

  The two men bowed their heads and stepped aside, and I exhaled.

  “Good job,” Moli said, fanning her face. “But next time, don’t leave us hanging in suspense and get to the answer a little quicker, will you?”

  “I would’ve gotten that answer quicker,” Alex said smugly. I rolled my eyes at him.

  Yulong stepped through first. Moli rushed toward the entrance next, but the guards stepped back in and crossed their spears together in front of her.

  “Hey, what’s the big idea?” she snapped.

  “Our orders are to let only the Heaven Breaker pass. No other mortals are allowed to attend the Lantern Festival banquet,” responded the guard on the right.

  “They’re all with me,” I said. “I couldn’t have done it without their help.” The guards at least had the decency to incline their heads as if in shame. “If my friends don’t go in, I don’t go in. See how the Jade Emperor likes that.”

  “Faryn, are you serious?” Ren muttered. “You should go. You have to go.”

  Alex stepped forward. “If she doesn’t wanna go, can I go in her place?”

  “Alex!” I hissed.

  “The Jade Emperor has ordered that the Heaven Breaker and all her companions may enter the banquet,” called a voice from above.

  A familiar deity floated down toward us on a cloud—Nezha, the Third Lotus Prince. My heart rose at the sight of him. He wasn’t riding his pí xiū today. He’d changed into a cháng shā like Yulong’s, though his outfit was a red-and-gold tribute to the New Year. The guards knelt as Nezha’s feet touched down to the ground, and we followed suit.

  “Nezha,” the guards murmured.

  “Let the mortals in,” Nezha commanded.

  “But the Jade Emperor—” one protested.

  “—has sent me to pass along his latest order,” the boy god finished. “I suggest you don’t try to defy it.”

  The men’s spears fell to their sides, and they stepped aside from the entrance. One of the guards commanded, “Fine, but the horses stay out here.”

  “No way,” Moli snapped. “It’s the Year of the Horse. My horses should be, like, guests of honor.”

  Nezha raised his spear threateningly, flames leaping off the tip. The guard paled.

  “She’s right, you know,” the other guard told his friend with a shrug.

  Reluctantly, the guards let us and the chariot through. Skyscrapers glimmered in the distance, and joyous shouts filled the streets. We stepped into the realm of the immortals.

  CHAPTER

  21

  Peng Lai Island should’ve been named Peng Lai City. The streets were paved w
ith bricks of gold. We were surrounded by both modern skyscrapers and rustic temples, the buildings bedecked with the red-and-gold Lunar New Year decorations. Huge winged beasts soared through the air, crossing paths with phoenixes and other strange birds that dangled hóng bāo in their beaks.

  I couldn’t help but feel awed as I took in my surroundings. I’d actually done it. I’d completed my quest, and I’d made it.

  Gods and goddesses floated from place to place on clouds, shouting greetings to Nezha and Yulong and giving us curious looks.

  “Did the Jade Emperor really tell you to tell the guards to let us all through?” I asked Nezha.

  Instead of responding, Nezha dragged us onto one huge cloud.

  “Whoa!” When I nearly stumbled, Ren caught me. My skin tingled where his arms had wrapped around me. I quickly pushed away to stand on my own feet.

  “That’s where the banquet’s being held—the palace of the eight immortals,” Nezha shouted over the excited chatter of the gods and goddesses.

  In the distance, an enormous palace rose above the skyscrapers. Golden turrets shot out of the top of the building, climbing up as if trying to reach the stars. High above, fireworks shot up into the night sky, showering the city with bursts of color.

  “This place is huge,” Ren observed, mouth open with awe.

  “It can’t compare to Heaven,” Nezha said, “but it’s nothing to sneeze at.”

  He twirled his flaming hoop through the air, setting a passing deity’s skirt on fire.

  “Sorry, Xiangu!” Nezha called up as she huffed and shot water out of her palm to put out the flames. He turned to us. “That’s He Xiangu of the eight immortals, who are hosting the banquet tonight. She’s rather temperamental.”

  “I heard that!” the goddess called, scowling. Then her eyes landed on Yulong, and she smiled. “Yulong. Wonderful to see you again. It’s been too long.”

  She hurried away, weaving in and out of the other deities.

  Nezha winked. “Anyway, the magnificence of Peng Lai Island—it’s all thanks to the loyalty of you humans.”

  Ren blinked. “Huh?”

  Was that why Nezha had helped my friends pass through the entrance? Because the gods wanted to use their power? I couldn’t help but think back to the way Guanyin and Nezha had both defended us, even against another god, Wenshu.

  The boy god definitely had an ulterior motive. The question was—was it a good or a bad one?

  As we flew over a sleek black building, Nezha pointed his spear at a thick, long, transparent chute that connected the building to the ground. Small slips of white paper shot through it. “See those pieces of paper?”

  “Prayer notes,” I blurted out.

  The god nodded. “Those are prayers of thanks from the humans. The ones given to individual gods seep into our life forces, giving us greater power and longevity. The ones that aren’t directed to specific deities come up through the chute and power the whole city. The reason we’ve got so many lights and fireworks for the Lunar New Year is because all the prayers are flooding in during the holiday.”

  Every prayer of thanks I’d ever given the gods—a lot—had kept this flashy city running. My mind reeled.

  “What about other kinds of prayers?” I asked. “People asking the gods for help?”

  Nezha jabbed his spear toward a white building in the distance. “Those prayers are sorted and sent to the specific god in question at the mailing system, the UPS.”

  “UPS?” Moli spluttered.

  “United Pí-xiū Service.” A line of huge winged lions, like the ones Nezha rode, flew out of the building. The beasts shot up, gripping brown bags stuffed with notes in their claws. “Once those prayers are fulfilled, the gods earn greater power. Influence over mortals. It’s what keeps us alive.”

  “So you gods are getting rich off us?” Alex asked in disbelief.

  Nezha paused, rubbing his chin. “Well, when you put it that way …” He grinned. “Definitely. Feel free to pray as you’d like up here, by the way. You’ve entered one of the realms of the immortals. All you need is this”—Nezha tapped his head—“to send us prayers telling us how amazing we are.”

  I looked behind me to see how Moli was taking this news, but she was barely even paying attention. There was a stormy, angry look in her eyes—even angrier than usual.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  For a moment, I thought she was going to snap at me to mind my own business. Instead she sighed. “Just … feel like I lost a friend, I guess.”

  I followed her gaze to Yulong, who was walking alongside Nezha. “Oh.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I guess Ye Ye had forgotten to teach the “How to Give Your Frenemy a Pep Talk after Her Beloved Horse Turns into a Dragon Prince” segment of his training.

  “Sometimes … friends change … literally,” I said. “It sucks, but you have to know when to let them go. Besides, there’s always room for new friendships.”

  I nodded toward the four horses in front of her.

  “Don’t try to be all Confucius on me, Faryn Liu. It doesn’t suit you,” Moli scoffed. Then she smiled, just a little. “But … I guess you do have a point. And sometimes, it’s nice to make things right with old friends, too.”

  “Thanks, Moli.” I smiled. Maybe there was hope for me and Moli to go back to the way things were.

  She tugged at the horses’ reins to coax them forward. They seemed unimpressed by the city around us and kept wanting to turn back.

  “Yulong,” said Nezha, flames dancing in his eyes. “Your father has been eagerly awaiting your return.”

  “My father cursed me and cast me out of the palace in the first place,” Yulong said bitterly. “He’s probably itching to test out his latest curse on me.”

  “Don’t speak so ill of your father at the banquet tonight,” Nezha warned. “There’s been bad blood between many of the deities lately. The last thing you want to do is stir up more trouble in front of the Jade Emperor.”

  “Speaking of the Jade Emperor,” Yulong said slowly, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something about him. As a horse, I overheard many rumors. One of them is that the Emperor’s got a powerful new weapon he’s hoping to unveil at the—”

  “Shhhhh.” Nezha looked right at me, the flames in his eyes a warning to stop listening. I blushed and looked away. Nezha and Yulong spoke in lowered voices.

  “Hey …” Ren poked my shoulder. He pointed at a tall billboard above our heads. It showed a young woman with hair as short as mine, smiling and holding a microphone. The sign read: NO BANQUET INVITATION? NO PROBLEM! COME TO MISS CINDY YOU’S CHŪN JIÉ WǍN HUÌ: TONIGHT AT PENG LAI HALL.

  Chūn jié wǎn huì, or Spring Festival Gala, was the annual performance held to celebrate the Lunar New Year. At least, that was what we did in the human world. I didn’t know the gods celebrated the Lunar New Year with a gala, too.

  Ren squinted at the billboard. “I’ve seen that woman before.”

  “Duh. That’s Cindy You.”

  “No, I—I’ve only recently gotten into Cindy’s work, and I haven’t seen a picture of her before. She looks—she looks so … familiar.” As we drew farther from the billboard, Ren shouted, “Guys, wait!”

  Nezha stopped, and the momentum of our cloud stopped with him. The deities around us pulled ahead. “What’s wrong? We’re going to be late to the banquet if we don’t hurry.”

  “This will just take a minute.” Ren grabbed my hand and stepped off the cloud. A new one formed beneath us, drifting us closer to the billboard.

  “Humans. Can’t take them anywhere,” Yulong muttered.

  I stood with Ren, hovering in the air and squinting up at the billboard. Cindy You was a mortal singer—right? But the gods had invited her to their realm of immortality.

  Suddenly I felt ticked off. To score an invite to the Lantern Festival banquet, I’d had to slay demons and escape crazy love goddesses. All Cindy You had to do was be herself?

  Someone cough
ed. “Psst.”

  I dropped my gaze to a crouching figure. The person wore a tattered blue gown with a wooden belt tied around the middle, and only one weathered brown shoe, with hair tied up into two small high buns.

  “You’re a strange-looking one. Mixed blood?” the person guessed. “Interesting. Never seen your kind up here before.”

  Frustration twinged in my gut. Another person who couldn’t see past the way I looked.

  “Ah, I see I’ve offended you, but I meant no harm by the question,” the person said. “I’m nonbinary. I go by ‘he’—for now.” He waved something under my nose—two tickets, his black eyes glittering as they passed over Ren and me. “You two are on your way to the banquet, aren’t you?” When we nodded, he shook his head. “Better that you don’t go. The real fun is going to be at the Spring Festival Gala. And did I mention there’s going to be food, too? Fun food, like chicken feet. Not that hoity-toity fancy stuff they’ll feed you at the banquet.”

  Ren extended his arm for the tickets. I stepped in front of him. “Sorry, but we don’t have any money.”

  The person smiled and blinked long eyelashes. “Oh, but these tickets only cost one measly prayer!”

  “Bye.” I tugged Ren away. It was like hauling a boulder.

  “Fine,” said the stranger. “You drive a hard deal. Two tickets for the price of one.” The stranger indicated a brown basket that sat beside him, filled with incense sticks and Choco Pies. “Just one prayer to me, the majestic Lan Caihe, and the tickets are yours.” The god bowed his head, as though expecting a shower of praise.

  I blinked. “Um … who?”

  The stranger looked miffed. “I’m one of the eight immortals. The best one. Me, Lan Caihe.”

  “Never heard of you,” I said. He glowered.

  “If you’re one of the eight immortals, shouldn’t you be hosting the banquet?” Ren asked.

  “I hate banquets.” Caihe shuddered. “Ol’ Tieguai—that’s one of the other eight immortals, looks like me, but less handsome—has been running this concert with me every year for the past hundred years. All the young deities love it. They don’t even want to attend that stuffy banquet anymore.” He frowned. “Besides, the banquet’s only fun if you’re a major deity and rake in the prayers. Not much to brag about when most of the humans don’t even remember who you are, let alone remember to send their prayers.”