by Ino Lee
“How old were you?”
“Eleven perhaps.”
“So young.”
“One day out of frustration, I saddled the creature and tried to force it to lap the grounds. I focused all my energies on controlling its mind and forcing my will. The mahzing promptly bucked me off and hopped the fence, never stopping.”
Tae laughed. “Sorry. That’s so sad for you. But what’s the point of the story?”
“As I sat on the ground and watched the mahzing run away, Master Yulong—who was head trainer at the time— approached me, knowing my dejection. He said, ‘Some spirits are not meant to be tamed. Sometimes you just have to let go.’”
Tae took it to heart and remained quiet for a while.
“What happened to the mahzing?”
“I saw it a week later. It had returned, perhaps to thank me for my help, perhaps just looking for food. It ran off and never came back again. I saw it in a field a few seasons later. I was glad it was free.”
After a time, Tengfei blew a few quick blasts on a zhuk horn to let Du Lai know where they were. The turtle returned with a full stomach, surfaced beneath their craft, and set off to Yomai once again.
12
THE FEELING WAS subtle; he turned his head left, then right again, and felt a slight tingle to the right, as if static from a woolen blanket tickled the insides of his brain. The lo-shur was there. He turned his head in the opposite direction and felt a similar draw—Kai’s mark from Shaolin.
Wong took off his mask. It had been a day since arriving in the Koon Kagi. The tracks outside the Black Mountain tunnel split apart; one small set veered toward the Dragon Pass, another toward the Great Wall, and a third toward the Temple of Masks. It was the latter path that they now followed, with at least half of the remaining unan force ahead of them. They were able to move undetected with good progress, but then the terrain turned increasingly lush and swampy, and the unan slowed.
Wong dropped from the treetops.
Jaguan gazed at him.
“What?” Wong said.
“When you stretch out your senses with the mask, I see the glimmer of a dark aura around you. I fear the consequences of such action.”
“Hmm . . . I don’t see that we have much choice now, do we?”
Jaguan looked unsatisfied. “What did you find?”
“The mark is still there, in the direction of the temple, at least. I think some of the unan have settled in the swamplands ahead. It’s home to them.”
“So they’ve divided forces to the Wall and Dragon Pass, while others settle here. It does not appear that they are planning to attack a weakened Shaolin. They appear more defensive in nature, perhaps to protect from retaliation.”
“Maybe. Right now we should decide how we want to get to the Temple of Masks. Trudging through the swamp directly will be slow and playing to the unan’s strengths. We may need to circle east around the thickest part to get to the temple.”
“What will the new path bring?”
“There are forests on the northeastern side. Tall trees. Quiet. Dark ninja territory. Some dagwais, but also demonic monkey-men.”
“That does not sound appealing.”
“Neither does a swamp full of unan.”
“I suppose no matter which way we turn, we cannot escape the fact that we are still in the Koon Kagi. I defer to your judgment. Lead the way.”
Travel through the forest was easier than at the periphery of the swamp. The environment seemed increasingly lifeless; few birds and animals could be heard and the color of the foliage appeared faded. When they finally heard something noteworthy, they wished they hadn’t—loud howling from a pack of demonic monkey-men, magaus, flying through the treetops, aggressive and unnerving. The magaus of the Koon Kagi weren’t like their simpler monkey counterparts west of the Great Wall. They were larger, closer to men and dark ninjas in intelligence, with all the agility of their more primal cousins.
Other movement could be detected, but not that of monkeys. Jaguan lifted his staff and sensed energies in the vicinity.
“We are not alone.”
Wong began to get an uneasy feeling, like the forest was waiting and watching.
“Keep moving. Try to get around them.”
A snap crackled above. Rope walls shot up from beneath their feet and enclosed, pulling them off the ground. Wong’s shuriken shield sprouted blades in an instant and sliced through the webbing, freeing them, but an alarm bell attached to the trap rang loudly.
Wong and Jaguan shot each other a look upon touching the earth.
“Go,” Jaguan urged.
They ran.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Wong mumbled.
He flipped his bow from shoulder to hand.
They saw a hill and moved to higher ground, frantic for cover, then paused and ducked low. Jaguan kneeled and spread out both arms.
“Energies are converging.”
Wong closed his eyes and tracked the movement. “Something’s moving toward the net. Light-footed. Dark ninjas.”
They saw two figures approach the trap that once held them. Another dropped from the treetops.
“They’re going to see our tracks,” Wong said. “I don’t think they’ll mistake us for other ninjas. We should take them out.”
“Hold,” Jaguan said.
A taller figure appeared, followed by another ninja.
“Is that . . . unan?” Wong said.
They fell flat on the ground to avoid being seen.
Jaguan angled the gemstone of the Phoenix Staff into his line of sight. The gem glowed and cleared, with the image of the forest magnified. He moved the staff and focused on the taller figure, zooming in on its face by manipulating the light passing through the gem.
“Unan.”
Wong nudged his face in. “A monkey?”
“Yes.”
“It’s wearing a monkey mask! I have to have it.”
“Quiet Wong, this is no time for your antics.”
“What is that?” Wong shifted Jaguan’s orb. “It’s a tail! The unan grew a tail!”
Jaguan looked surprised, then pulled back his staff.
“Let’s kill them before they get away,” Wong said. “Don’t destroy my mask.”
He made a move.
“No,” Jaguan urged, holding Wong’s arm. “Can you guarantee we kill them all? What if one escapes? Right now we are just a pair of suspicious tracks. If we attack and word gets out, the Shoukoo and Weapons Master are loose in the Koon Kagi and the full force of the enemy is upon us.”
Wong leaned back down.
“We stalk the mark and invade the temple without their knowledge,” Jaguan said. “Stealth is critical.”
“Well if we don’t attack, we better do something,” Wong said, nodding toward the Koon Gee.
The dark ninjas circled the ground, searching for footprints. The unan spread its arms.
Jaguan’s eyes widened. “The unan . . . it senses us.”
The demon’s face turned—a wild grin with crazy eyes—and peered directly at them. Jaguan and Wong ducked back.
“Do you think it saw us?” Wong said.
“No, but we should distance ourselves from this place.”
They crawled back to sneak away, careful not to make much noise.
“They’ll track us,” Wong said.
“Yes.”
A hysterical-sounding monkey howled, followed by a horn blast. The chase was on. They picked up speed and ran, hopping several trees to make it difficult to track them.
“Veer left,” Wong said. “Away from the swamplands.”
They ran for miles. Jaguan sensed more activity throughout the region while Wong tracked movement everywhere. A long multi-toned horn blast sounded further behind them, answered by a sharp blast near
by.
“Hunting parties,” Wong said. “They’re communicating. We won’t outrun them.”
Something stirred in the treetops. Wong’s arrow whistled at a dark figure, but it jumped away.
“Hold!” Jaguan yelled as they crossed into a deep thicket.
Wong dropped his bow and unsheathed his sword, guarding the monk’s back. Movement closed in on them from all directions.
The foliage rustled.
“Close your eyes, Wong.”
When unseen enemies crashed through, Jaguan yelled “Hold,” once again and slammed the butt of the Phoenix Staff on the ground, flashing bright light from the gemstone.
Wong opened his eyes again and saw two dark ninjas and a dagwai stood frozen in position. One ninja was in the midst of thrusting a spear, another carried a similar weapon while dragging a net, and the lizardman curled a spiked mace with a crow vulture perched on its shoulder. Jaguan’s staff glowed hot white.
“I can’t hold this forever,” Jaguan said, grimacing.
“Huh? Oh yeah.”
Wong approached the lizardman closest to his left. Its eyes shifted to track him while its body remained paralyzed, making Wong feel awkward about stabbing it through the heart. He knocked the bird off its shoulder with a quick flick of his metal finger, then dispatched of the dark ninjas in the same manner as the dagwai. Jaguan dropped his light and the bodies collapsed to the ground.
Wong shrugged. “That wasn’t bad.”
As soon as he said it, another ninja barreled into the thicket. Wong parried a blow before grabbing the ninja’s sword with his Iron Fist, locking it, then thrusting his red blade into its chest.
A dagwai appeared, unleashing a razor hound on them. Jaguan flared his war staff and held off the wild dog’s initial assault, then dimmed and pulsed the light, mesmerizing it. He spoke the word, “Sleep,” and touched the animal lightly on the head, causing its knees to buckle. The dagwai tried to rush Jaguan, but Wong downed it with a fallen ninja’s spear made airborne.
The thicket was still again. Wong moved over to examine the sleeping hound.
“How long before it wakes?”
“An hour perhaps. It will be no danger once it sees its masters are dead.”
Wong examined the Koon Gee one by one, noted their weaponry, and picked up a curved hunting horn.
“A hunting party for sure. Looks like five to a party with dagwai animal trainers a possibility. I wonder how many more are out there.”
“There is still the party with the unan after us.”
“Hunting parties have probably canvassed the area. They’ll collapse on us like a net.”
“There is only the first party that knows us and is orchestrating our capture. If we eliminate the control, we may slip through.”
Wong thought about the monkey mask and grinned.
“Smart. I like your plan.”
Jaguan could tell what he was thinking and did not like it. “I will take out the unan.”
“Don’t break my mask.”
“Unan are not to be trifled with! It is difficult to kill one—you know this. I will destroy it by whatever means possible, as quickly as I can, regardless of preserving its mask. We cannot forget the mission. It matters above all else. This hunt distracts us from it.”
Wong grimaced at Jaguan’s unrelenting seriousness, though he could not argue.
“Come on, I have a plan,” he said.
“What is it?” Jaguan said, suspicious.
Wong did not answer at first. “Don’t worry. I’m not stupid. I know the mission.”
The unan bent down and touched the tracks, moving nimbly on long, thin limbs. It stood tall and pointed out a direction. A dark ninja standing beside it took the cue and pressed a horn to its lips, sounding out a multi-toned call, which was answered by a quick, sharp blast not far away.
Strange, the unan thought. The reply signified that the answering party was still scouting the direction indicated by the original call, but it came from almost the exact same position as before. They had not moved since then and were taking much too long to search the area for tracks. Incompetent fools. Its leader was surely deserving of a kick. At least if they caught up and joined parties, it could direct them properly.
The hunting party moved quickly and when they were almost within reach, the unan signaled with two fingers. The dark ninja promptly followed instructions and blew two quick, sharp blasts. The reply would indicate which direction the other party was heading.
A single blast sounded.
They looked at each other and slowed to a stop. The reply made no sense at all.
An arrow caught the hand of the monkey mask demon when it flinched to block its face, the projectile piercing halfway through its rubbery flesh before stopping. Next to the unan, the horn shot out of the dark ninja’s grip, while another arrow followed to its head.
“Scatter!” the unan yelled.
Jaguan lunged out of the bushes, a burning ember ablaze at the staff’s end. The unan leaped back and flipped away. It shifted the arrow impaled in its hand and flung it at Jaguan’s head with surprising speed, causing the monk to dodge perilously—an arrow tainted with toxic unan flesh was an especially dangerous thing.
Another ninja made a move on Jaguan but felt an arrow go through its ribs. The remaining two dove into the thicket after Wong and his barrage of arrows.
A naginata was thrust through the brush at the Weapons Master’s head, but he deflected it with an upward shift of his shield. He flared the blades on the shuriken shield with his bow still in hand, slashed the ninja across the abdomen, then blocked repeated blows from the second ninja. At a break in the assault, he stunned it in the face with his Iron Fist, reached back for an arrow, and fired at point blank range.
The masked demon taunted Jaguan by constantly dodging his blows without attacking, laughing and throwing monkey grunts with every miss. Connecting with a strike and burning it with his ember was futile, Jaguan determined; the demon was especially agile and its tail gave it extra balance, an ode to the animal form from which it was constituted. He knew he must not despair and the demon had not yet proven its superiority over him either, also having failed to deliver a blow. The taunts were meant to agitate and were part of its strategy.
The unan spun its weapon, a spear made of petrified Zhigau wood, and pointed it at the monk.
“The Shoukoo . . . in the Koon Kagi?” it said with monkey laughter. “What brings this monk to the Koon Kagi? Have you no place to stay? Do you not like what we’ve done to the temple?”
An arrow shot at its mask, but the demon snapped its lanky neck sideways.
“And who’s this? The Weapons Master?”
Though its face was locked into place, a shade of a concern seemed to fall over it. No dark ninjas could be seen and more help could not be summoned since the hunting horn lay damaged with an arrow shot through it.
“Well I hope I’ve been a generous host, but now it’s time to take my leave.”
It bowed and ran. The Shaolin warriors gave chase.
The unan reached into its tar-flesh and pulled out a small pouch, leaping into the trees and emptying its contents.
Jaguan was closest and dropped to his knees, clutching his face.
“Stinging powder!”
Wong closed his eyes to avoid being blinded and moved up the trees. A foot came down on him and pummeled him back to the forest floor.
Jaguan reached for his skin of water with his eyes closed, unsure of what was happening. He felt vulnerable being unable to see and had to rely on Wong.
“Don’t let it get away,” he said.
Wong shot back up and pursued. The demon ran toward the swamplands, undoubtedly to find reinforcements. If he couldn’t stop it, their mission was doomed. And while catching up to an unan in the forest canopy normally wouldn’t be
a problem, this demon maneuvered faster than most and appeared well adapted to the terrain. It made him wonder about its mask.
He had to slow the demon down lest it pull him too far away. He moved higher in the canopy and notched an arrow. Aiming for its head was useless because it would sense the shot coming, so he decided to aim low. He measured his shot and let the projectile fly. The arrow struck through the unan’s foot and gripped bark, locking in place and tearing off a chunk of flesh as the unan lurched forward to the ground. It braced its head up with its arms to prevent its mask from shattering.
A flaming arrow stuck in its back and the unan howled in pain. It flipped over to extinguish the flames but another pierced its chest. A third came but it flipped over again to evade and extinguish the flame now on its chest.
The flurry of assaults was too much, so the demon scurried for cover on all fours like a rampaging monkey with its tail up, disappearing behind foliage.
Wong jumped to the lower branches with his bow and striker in one hand, and his last arrow in the other, which had been soaked in dragon spit. At any moment, he could strike a spark and engulf the arrow in flames.
Nothing moved. He dropped to ground level and hunted. The demon was certainly hiding—its foot would take a moment to reconstitute, so it couldn’t have run away.
He moved slowly.
A spear lashed out, making him drop his arrow. The demon lashed out again and again, but Wong blocked with his bow. The unan’s foot was whole again and it seemed unfazed by the damage from the flaming arrows.
Wong dropped the bow and unsheathed his sword. He parried multiple strikes, when the unan jumped up and jolted him with two quick strikes of its feet while flipping in air. He landed against a trunk and used his shield to deflect a spear thrust into the tree, up near his head.
He countered by stabbing his sword through the demon’s abdomen, but it monkey-laughed and punched him in the jaw. It hit him a second time and retracted its arm for third before Wong twisted his sword and sliced clear through its body.