by Cindy Pon
Kai Sen picked up a small pine cone and threw it. It hit the young monk who had spoken square on his forehead. “No one asked you, Huang.”
“Oww!” Huang rubbed his brow, scowling. He was no more than thirteen years.
Huang was so offended that Skybright burst into laughter, and all six monks gawked at her, as if she were in serpent form dangling from a tree limb. “All right.” She took Kai Sen by the elbow and drew him away from the clearing. “You’ve made your point,” she said when they were hidden in the thickets again. His arm had been stiff beneath her touch the entire time, his stride halting. “I’m sorry for what I said, Kai.”
His body was angled away from her, the cords of his neck taut. “Don’t ever do that again, Sky. Belittle what we have between us. As if it were cheap and something to cast aside.” He made a frustrated noise and met her eyes, and a knot rose in her throat when she saw the devastation there. She had hurt him. And yet he would not let her go—would not let them go.
“Oh, Kai,” she said. “I just didn’t want to hurt you—”
He let out a harsh laugh. She grasped his fingers in hers and he quieted the moment they touched. “I care for you, but there isn’t a future for us together. Not when I am what I am. I don’t even know my true nature yet—it terrifies me. What if I do harm you one day, because I have no control over my demonic side?”
“Why have you dismissed us over what ifs? Over things that you don’t even know will come to pass? Why can’t you live in the moment and accept this?” He drew her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Why can’t you just accept us?
“Because I’m too practical, Kai.”
“No. Not when it comes to me, remember?” He grinned. He had changed into a clean tan-colored tunic since she had last seen him, and she pressed her cheek against his chest, breathing in the subtle scent of camphor wood.
“There are no love stories between serpent demons and monks,” she murmured. “It’s impossible and ridiculous.”
“I’ll write one, then,” he replied, and she laughed, despite herself.
They stood together, holding each other, until Skybright pushed away from him. “Your brother monks must be waiting for you. Why are you traveling in such a small group? It can’t be safe.”
“We’ve been sent on a special mission.” Kai Sen shifted on his feet, suddenly unsettled—something she had never sensed from him before. “We’re closing the breach between the underworld and ours.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “With only six monks? And one barely out of puberty? That’s suicide!”
“Abbot Wu hand selected the group and gave us a map of where the breach is supposed to be. He said we would be blessed—protected—on this mission.”
Should she tell him what Stone had told her? Or let Kai Sen complete the part that was expected of him? How could she even explain what Stone had divulged, when she wasn’t certain if she believed it herself—wasn’t certain if she could even trust the immortal? “But how can you close it?” she asked.
His expression became unreadable, and he raised his head to stare beyond her, into the dense forest. “I was given clear instructions,” he said vaguely.
“Did Han ever tell Abbot Wu about your … confrontation?”
Kai Sen smiled, but his dark brown eyes remained solemn. “He didn’t. I knew he never would—we’re too close. But I’m certain someone else told Abbot Wu what happened. It’s probably why I was sent off with this small team on an impossible mission.”
“Do be careful, Kai. Our world has gone mad.” She wanted to go with him, felt an ominous premonition about this task Abbot Wu had given. Still, Zhen Ni was her primary concern, the one in immediate danger. Skybright shuddered, imagining her mistress being held captive somewhere by that ferocious bull demon.
“I wish I could help you find your mistress. But I’m the leader and cannot abandon the group.” He leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Promise you’ll keep safe?”
“And you,” she whispered. She had wanted to end things between them, but now the fear that they might never see each other again overwhelmed her with foreboding. Backing away with reluctance, Skybright said, “I must go. Goodbye, Kai Sen.”
“Farewell, Sky.” He held still as a statue, the only movement in his eyes, which followed her progress as she retreated from him. He remained there until she could no longer see him.
Skybright concentrated on the pull she felt toward her mistress. She undressed and shifted after she had left Kai Sen half a league behind her. The earth beneath her serpent coil sang with life, the strength and depth of it so ancient it was beyond her comprehension. But she understood it on a visceral level, and her serpentine senses stretched, just as Zhen Ni would fling her arms out wide after a particularly good nap. Skybright luxuriated in it, in the rich life that the earth sustained and cradled.
She was certain that she was drawing nearer to her mistress as she snaked her way toward the valley of pine trees she had seen days before, enveloped by the pine needles’ crisp, clean scent. They reminded her of Kai Sen, and of the needles she had carefully plucked from his black hair as he slept after their love making. He was being evasive with her about his mission to close the breach to hell and it filled her with unease, as she had never known him not to be completely truthful with her.
Craving sunlight on her skin, Skybright veered toward the mountain’s edge, her connection to Zhen Ni pulling ever stronger. It was a blessing her mistress still lived days after her abduction, but Skybright feared what she must have suffered—might still be suffering. She traveled through the night, emerging into the valley of pines before dawn, Zhen Ni’s scent blooming in the back of her throat. Squirrels and rats scattered as she slid between gnarled trunks. A fox burrowed deep into its hole, abandoning its hunt for a forest hare that had also dashed into its nest beneath the ground.
She began passing points in the forest that tasted burnt and smoky, exactly like the scent that had lingered after the bull demon escaped with Zhen Ni through the rent in the air. Her pulse raced to recognize it; she must be on the right track.
Just as the sun rose, she slithered to the edge of the forest that opened onto Tian Kuan’s base, and the almost floral taste that she associated with Zhen Ni flared, distinct and sharp. Her mistress was close! Skybright remained hidden in the trees, following the tug she felt in her chest, when she spied the opening to a large cavern in the mountain’s base. Giant stone torches were lit at either side of the entrance, and a deep red glow filled the cavern’s mouth—the same glow she had seen when the demon abducted Zhen Ni.
A flick of her forked tongue, and Skybright knew that her mistress was held captive in that cave. Zhen Ni paced in short steps, as if the space she had were limited. Skybright sensed no one else within, human or monster. She slid to the entrance, glad for the morning mist, and peered inside. A wide crevice ran through the center of the cavern, from which the red glow emanated. Skybright could see a cage set far in the back, and Zhen Ni walking an erratic circle inside. She had to smother a hiss that nearly erupted from the excitement of seeing her mistress again, alive and well. Instead, Skybright quickly shifted back to a girl and tugged her clothes and shoes on, not even caring if her tunic was buttoned correctly.
She withdrew the dagger from Zhen Ni’s knapsack and tiptoed into the cave. It was huge, its stone walls a deep gray. She couldn’t see the top of the cavern, as the torches anchored to the walls didn’t cast enough light. Her serpent senses had never failed her before, but Skybright was unable to believe that she’d found her mistress unguarded. Murmuring a prayer to the fickle God of Luck, she clutched the dagger close as she crept along the narrow path against the wall, keeping a safe distance from the fissure that seethed an acrid heat. Zhen Ni finally saw her when she was halfway through the cavern and cried out. Skybright pressed a finger to her lips then ran quickly to cover the remaining distance between them, reaching between the iron bars to to
uch her mistress’s cheek. Zhen Ni appeared the same, with dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. She wasn’t bloodied or bruised, and her clothes, though dirty, were not ripped. Overwhelming relief filled Skybright, bringing tears to her eyes. A tray of half-eaten rice was set on a low bamboo stool in the corner, with a dirty bedroll made from hay beside it.
Her mistress had reached through the bars and wrapped her hand behind Skybright’s neck, pulling Skybright’s face close to kiss her frantically twice on the cheek. “How in the goddess’s name did you find me, Sky?” Zhen Ni cried.
“Not now, mistress. I’ll tell you everything after we’re far from here,” Skybright whispered. She grabbed one of the iron bars and shook it with dismay. How could she ever break this?
“The key’s on a hook behind you,” Zhen Ni said. “He had no fear of anyone coming to rescue me—and I had no hope of it, either.”
Skybright ran to where Zhen Ni pointed, her light footsteps echoing too loudly through the vast cavern. She sent a prayer of gratitude to the gods as she took the key from the wall, right beneath a blazing torch. “Are there no demons to guard you?” she asked as she tried the lock, her hand shaking with nerves. Skybright laid the dagger on the floor so she could use both hands. Her stomach turned from the reek of sulfur that hung heavy in the air.
“The only guard I’ve seen is a monk,” Zhen Ni said.
Skybright was so shocked she dropped the key. She cursed, picked it up and tried again. “A monk? Are you certain? What of the demon that kidnapped you? He didn’t hurt you, mistress?” She willed her voice steady, even as she stiffened her arm so she could work the lock.
“He brought me here and put me in the cage, then disappeared through a hole in the air right outside the cavern.” Zhen Ni’s knuckles were white from gripping the bars so hard. “And yes, I know a monk when I see one. He’s been bringing me my meals and letting me out to relieve myself.”
Skybright almost hissed, reciting a quick prayer of gratitude to the Goddess of Mercy. Her mistress had been ill treated, but not tortured or raped. What did it mean, for a monk to be holding Zhen Ni captive? Had Stone been speaking the truth all along? That there was one abbot who knew and orchestrated this breach in the underworld with the gods?
The key finally turned and the iron door swung open. She reached for Zhen Ni’s hand as the earth beneath their feet heaved. “Quickly, mistress,” Skybright said, and they tried to run toward the cave entrance, even as the crevice split wider, the ground groaning as it did so. The two girls clung to each other as the earth tilted beneath them, and they crouched low, unable to run for fear they’d tumble into the gaping hole.
“Crawl, mistress! I’m right behind you,” Skybright shouted above the grinding of stone against stone. “I won’t let you fall in.”
Zhen Ni did so, navigating on her hands and knees as quickly as she could, with Skybright at her heels, ready to throw herself forward if she needed to protect her mistress. But when they finally made it past the shuddering ground to the cavern’s entrance, the forest scene split open in front of them, and Abbot Wu stepped through the portal, blocking their path. He held a dark walnut staff in one hand.
“What is this?” he asked in that resonant voice. “I’d never imagined there would be an attempt to rescue the sacrifice.”
Sacrifice?
The abbot was the same height as Zhen Ni, but stout, and although he wasn’t muscular, he carried a powerful presence. He spread his arms and the crimson sleeves of his robe fluttered for a moment; the ground had stilled as soon as he appeared. “Please return to the cage. You also.” He pointed his staff at Skybright. “I’m afraid I can’t risk you trying to save your friend again.” Abbot Wu then took a long look at her, and his eyes narrowed. “I know you.” The tone of his voice turned much more menacing with those three words, and Skybright felt her stomach clench. “Into the cage or I’ll have the ground open up to swallow both of you in an instant. The gods would have an extra sacrifice this time.”
He marched toward them, tall staff raised like a weapon, and Skybright wondered if she could shove him into the glowing fissure. If she shifted, they would have a better chance at escape. But as if reading her mind, the abbot touched his staff against Skybright’s bare arm, chanting beneath his breath. There was a shock from the contact, so strong she felt it in her bones. “Don’t even consider fighting, girl.” The abbot smiled. “I have other plans for you.”
Furious, she reached for that unbearable heat to change into her demonic form, but her mind slammed into a wall. The abbot had cut her access to her own magic somehow.
The earth rumbled beneath their feet again, and Zhen Ni clutched her hand so hard, Skybright’s knuckles hurt. They had no choice but to retreat, shuffling along the edge of the crevice as the abbot herded them. He kicked Zhen Ni’s dagger aside after they entered the cage, the ground still trembling. It stopped as soon as he locked the door and slipped the key into a hidden pocket.
“I was so disappointed to lose you that first time,” the abbot said. “What a gift to have you return to me.”
Zhen Ni stared at Skybright, her eyes wide with fear and filled with unasked questions. Skybright gripped her mistress’s fingers to reassure her, although her own palm was damp with sweat. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never seen you before,” Skybright lied.
“Perhaps we’ve never formally met,” Abbot Wu said, “but you’re the serpent demon we caught when the breach first broke.”
Zhen Ni’s hand shook in her own, and Skybright released it. “No,” Skybright whispered, but without conviction. What would he do to her now that she was trapped within the cage?
“I’d recognize that scar anywhere.” The abbot ran a thick finger alongside his own cheek. “It’s healed well since that night.”
“What’s he saying, Sky?”
“Ah,” Abbot Wu said. “Your friend doesn’t know? But then, why would she? Your demonic nature is something to be hidden, isn’t it? Until the time comes to kill your victim.” His tone was not unkind, merely conversational, as if they were discussing the taste of a new tea. “The gods do create such fascinating creatures to punish us.” He stared at her through the bars, a hawk eyeing its prey. “There is a way I can make certain,” the abbot said, speaking to himself. “There are so many questions I want to ask.”
Skybright backed away from him, away from Zhen Ni, until she was pressed against the cold bars at the rear of the cage. Her mind had gone blank, numb with fear. Now that she was captured, could the abbot force her to shift? No. Please no. Not in front of Zhen Ni, not like this.
Abbot Wu closed his eyes and began muttering, as if trying to recall something, before he proceeded to chant in a deep voice. The archaic words pulled at Skybright, tugging her sternum, like something physical dragging her forward. She tried to dig her heels into the dirt, but her feet continued to shuffle, enchanted. A frustrated whimper escaped from her, and she bit down hard on her lip, furious with herself.
“What’s happening?” Zhen Ni cried. “What’s the matter, Sky?”
Skybright shook her head, unable to look at her mistress. Compelled to go to the abbot, she was at the cage door within moments, extending her forearm between the bars because he willed it. He opened his eyes; they were the color of dark amber. “A demon, as I thought,” he said, and stooped to pick up the knife that had spun away from the cage. The abbot seized her by the wrist and started chanting anew, then began carving the inside of her forearm with the tip of the dagger. His grip wasn’t tight, as she was frozen, unable to move. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes from the pain, from the frustration of feeling completely impotent against his spell.
Zhen Ni screamed when the abbot sliced the knife into Skybright’s skin. “What are you doing? Stop!” She tried to beat at the monk’s head with her hands.
Abbot Wu didn’t attempt to dodge her punches, but broke from his chanting long enough to say, “I’ll cut her more deeply
than I intend if you continue. Would you want that, when I’m cutting so close to her wrist?”
Her mistress was sobbing now, gripping the iron bars with both fists. “Why are you doing this?”
Skybright watched, removed from herself, while the abbot resumed his chanting and carved three characters into her flesh. Blood welled as her skin split open, like sap from a tree. But the sharp pain was nothing compared to the deep ache in her chest to see Zhen Ni crying for her. The monk continued chanting, and a tight sensation gripped her heart, began to writhe into her belly, through her groin. She was being forced to shift. Gasping, Skybright tried to wrench her arm free, to fling herself against the bars until she lost consciousness, yet still she could not move. She wrangled with her inner self, trying as best as she could to fight the change, the familiar feeling of heat blazing through her legs. She tried to douse her mind with coolness.
But she couldn’t conquer the insistent drone of Abbot Wu’s mantra, and after a long moment that seemed to stretch into forever, her serpent body emerged, and she was released from his enchantment. Skybright fell onto the dirt floor, suppressing the hiss that was about to erupt from her throat. Her forearm was washed in her own blood, and it trickled onto the ground, staining the earth with crimson drops.
“How curious. I’ve only seen serpent demons described and rendered with the face of a woman and an entirely serpentine body.” The abbot studied Skybright as one would a specimen in a jar. “But you, you remain half human on top.”
“What did you do to her?” Zhen Ni screamed, and leaped at the abbot again, thrusting an arm out through the bars as far as she could. “Stop what you’re doing to her!” Her mistress was horrified and enraged; Skybright could taste it on her tongue.
But Abbot Wu had stepped smoothly out of the way as soon as Skybright had shifted. “I’m not doing anything other than revealing your friend’s true nature.” He nodded at Skybright, and she couldn’t lift her face, only watch as her blood dribbled onto the ground. “See how she lied to you? What she hid from you? This is what your friend truly is.”