by Ino Lee
When morning came, she shared breakfast with Tengfei, a light fare that included sea urchin on toast with green tea. They ate quickly, both eager to get on with their day; while Tae would train with the samurai, Tengfei would have an equally exciting task—assisting Monk Yulong with preparations of the chi shard.
Tae stepped off the last plank of the rope bridge and caught the scent of chrysanthemum. She took in the hilltop of the Sun Temple, a sight to behold in the bright morning. With unobstructed views from all sides, everything was drenched in sun. Not a cloud in the sky could be seen and it was easy to understand why the temple was given its name.
Her time in Yomai had thus far been a dream: exquisite beauty, delicate foods, pleasant conversation, and most importantly, her samurai sword. She felt somewhat guilty about her positive experiences after thinking about Wong and Jaguan in the Koon Kagi, and the state of affairs in Shaolin.
She walked past the white stone garden, under the torii, and down the mountain’s steps, arriving at the docks below. Youta’s ship was being prepped nearby and appeared as a simple vessel, with a narrow hull built for speed and bright white sails. Ship workers crossed a plank carrying crates, so Tae followed them across.
Youta and Naruki greeted her when she arrived near the bow.
“Good morning, Tae,” Youta said.
“Good morning.”
“Glad you are aboard. We are almost ready to cast off. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, your pillows are so comfortable.”
“They are stuffed with the down of torens. There is nothing better. And how was breakfast?”
“Exquisite.”
“I caught the sea urchin this morning,” Naruki said.
“You’ve done so much for me already. Thank you.”
Workers stacked a few crates near them. Tae glanced at one with a missing lid and saw green pumpkins. Another held giant sunflower blossoms.
“Interesting cargo,” she said. “Aren’t we supposed to be packing light for the trip?”
“Necessary load,” Youta said. “It won’t affect us.”
The captain of the ship approached. “Shogun, we are ready to depart.”
“Do so,” Youta said.
Final arrangements were made and they pulled away from the port. Boatmen ran to and fro making adjustments to the sails. The samurai stood quietly confident, admiring the beauty of the water. Tae noted the subtle difference in their behavior to that of Shaolin; though equally quiet and reflective, Shaolin warriors communed with nature to reach harmony within, while the samurai simply basked in it for the pure enjoyment.
Du Lai splashed in a nearby cove.
“Will Du Lai follow us?” Tae asked.
“No,” Naruki said. “The journey here was too taxing and rushed. Du Lai will rest a few more days.”
An attendant appeared. “Tae, we have prepared a cabin for you below.”
“Why don’t you settle in first and then we can begin our lessons?” Youta said.
Tae nodded and followed the attendant to her quarters below deck. She looked over her room and was happy enough with a bunk and more down pillows; it was hard to be picky after sleeping several nights in Du Lai’s awkward bamboo carriage. She used the quiet to settle her nerves with monk meditation before reconvening at the ship’s stern for a much anticipated lesson.
“Are you ready to begin?” Youta asked.
“I am,” Tae said.
“Draw your sword.”
She grabbed the hilt of the blade, whose etchings were now known by heart, and unsheathed the weapon. A crisp ring echoed.
Youta unsheathed his own. The Shogun Sword appeared much more natural in his hands than hers or even Wong’s.
He held it up. “Feel your connection to your sword, Tae. Feel your bond. Your samurai sword is your companion—it is connected to your soul. If it is with you during battle, you will never be alone. It will never dull, never break, never rust. It will never fail you.”
Tae was moved by his conviction. It made her believe.
“The metal has been cured with chi,” Naruki added. “It will bond with and enhance your own.”
“Like the Sword of Shaolin?” Tae asked.
“In a way,” Naruki said. “But the Sword of Shaolin was made with a chi shard. Its raw power dwarfs many swords.”
“Think of it differently,” Youta said. “Your katana is not merely a tool for power. Understand the subtlety of its nature, the way it moves, where it wants to go. It can make you a better warrior, which is greater than any power.”
“I never thought of it that way. I felt a connection with my sword, also when I held Shin’ichi for the first time.”
“Yes. You have natural ability. The way of the samurai fits you. I can see it.”
He smiled. Tae found him genuine.
“Wong did not have a true connection with the sword,” Naruki said. “He is not a samurai. It wasn’t truly meant for him. It was meant for the Shogun.”
“That much may be true,” the Shogun said. “But Wong’s connection with a weapon has surpassed anything a samurai has done. It was just not with a Sun sword. It was with the Dragon Arm.”
Tae’s spirit dropped, knowing that Wong had lost his connection to it. She held her tongue.
“Shin’ichi was the first Sun sword,” Naruki said. “It has been passed down from generation to generation and has gained from the collective use of our most powerful samurai. It is back in its place and your bond will grow, Youta. You too, Tae, shall start a new legacy with your own.”
“I look forward to it,” Tae said.
“Now strike with the weapon!” Youta said.
He slashed with both hands.
“Strong. Together as one.”
Tae took a deep breath and did the same.
“Good. Again.”
After a few more practice slashes, they clashed. Youta did not hold back. Their swords rang.
Youta held his sword up. “Listen. Hear it sing. If you can learn to listen to it, it can become your sixth sense.”
He struck again and again—quick, sharp movements. His fighting style was direct, unlike that of Shaolin.
Tae pushed back. She spared a few more series and could almost feel and understand the connection to her weapon. She spun on a final strike.
“Excellent,” Youta said.
“A little more flare than called for,” Naruki said. “But good.”
“I must admit, I am familiar with the samurai style,” Tae said. “Wong and Li borrow from it.”
“What matters most is that you are in tune with your sword,” Youta said.
“No, what matters most is that the Shogun Sword has returned home and a chi shard is headed to Shaolin.” She bowed. “Thank you for the lesson.”
Naruki laughed. “You are not a samurai just yet. The lessons have only begun.”
Tengfei reached for the center of the Sun Pool and felt the electrifying sensation of the chi shard. He pulled on the energy and drew the shard slowly across the water, a sparkling glint that floated effortlessly across the expanse. When it reached the pool’s edge, he scooped it up with a vial.
“That is something most monks will never get to do,” Yulong said.
Tengfei held up the vial and examined the crystal, which gave off a pure white light.
“It’s smaller than I thought.”
“The pool is not as large as Shaolin’s. Also the samurai swords have siphoned off energy over the years.”
“How much, do you think?”
“No one knows for sure. Each sword is different. My guess is the shard would be twice the size without them.”
“I do not mean to complain. I am more than glad to receive it.”
He hung the vial around his neck.
“This must be how Jaguan feels
carrying the Monk Staff around.”
Yulong laughed.
“I hope the swords react well,” Tengfei said. “I feel as if I have stolen a precious egg from a bird’s nest.”
“The pool will still draw energy. The swords will just take more time to cure. And speaking of birds, we should really get going.”
They left the Sun Temple. Takeo waited for them at the bottom of the hill with horses. He wore a daisho pairing of swords: a massive katana named Kokaiji and a smaller companion wakizashi at his side.
“Morning, gentleman. Have you accomplished your task?”
Tengfei held up the vial. “I didn’t know you would be escorting us.”
“It’s best that I shadow something as important as the Sun shard, even though we are in Yomai. Shall we go? Youta will be leaving soon.”
The monks mounted the horses and galloped off with Takeo.
“Is it dangerous where we are going?” Tengfei asked.
“No, not so close to the temple.”
“Further north there are raiders and Gaa warriors,” Yulong said. “Some Koon Gee. They are occasionally troublesome and there is no wall to protect us.”
“You speak like you are home. How long has it been since you left Shaolin for Yomai?”
“I am home. Sixteen years.”
“It won’t be long before we need another monk,” Takeo said. He eyed Tengfei.
Tengfei smiled. “Perhaps. One day.”
“Not if I can help it,” Yulong said. “I’m not that old. I have many more years to go.”
Takeo grinned. “One cannot help planning for the future.”
They crossed into the surrounding village. Tengfei admired the pottery and craft shops, ramen stands, and the smell of one particularly popular yakitori-ya. He wished he could have stopped for a taste even though he had just finished breakfast with Tae, but duty called. Soon they passed under a gate and followed a dirt road that traced the coastline.
They rose in elevation.
Takeo examined the coast. He saw the white sail of a ship out at sea.
“Youta has left.”
“You’ll catch up,” Yulong said.
A great bird, a toren, flew overhead and cast a shadow like a passing cloud. Tengfei marveled at its wingspan.
Yulong looked on proudly. “Umeko. She’s getting big. Soon you will see my work, Tengfei.”
A wide range of bluffs overlooked the ocean. At the top, a small colony of torens noisily went about their business. The hardy birds were the size of elephants, with thick necks and gray-brown feathers the color of earth and clay. White feathers formed a crest upon their heads and gave them a dignified look.
“They are magnificent,” Tengfei said. “I can see why you wanted to train them.”
“Very stubborn animals though, like mahzings or worse. And territorial too. It took many months before they even accepted us near them.”
“They do have a gentle spirit though, not violent like some birds of prey,” Takeo added.
“What do they eat?”
“Everything. Fruit, vegetables, plants, plenty of fish. They are often found in the pumpkin fields.”
“I suppose your diet can’t be too selective to grow that large.”
They arrived at a station nestled near the colony. An open fence framed an enclosure around a wooden cabin, where two birds rested in the grass. One was larger than the other and appeared aloof, while the other examined them curiously. They dismounted their horses and approached on foot.
“Kasumi and Ryuu,” Yulong said. “The large one is Kasumi. She is very well trained. Ryuu is young and still raw, but he’s learning.”
“Will I fly one?” Tengfei asked.
“It’s best to leave it to Takeo. They will need to accept you first. They cannot just be controlled with your monk skills. Very stubborn, as I said.”
“It took years before I could ride one,” Takeo said. “Yulong was able to connect with them, and fortunately, a samurai’s ability to listen to one’s sword also works well to understand the behavior of a toren.”
“A collaboration of monk and samurai ingenuity,” Yulong added.
Takeo started to strap saddles onto the torens.
Tengfei looked on curiously. “How long did it take to train the creatures?”
“Many years we trained,” Yulong said. “We knew Kasumi when she was half her size. She had to learn to respond to physical cues. A mental link does not work well.”
“Can more be trained? Is it viable?”
“Hopefully, but there is much work to do and not all torens are the same. Ryuu is coming along quicker than Kasumi, at least. We are learning.”
“Fascinating. They are such an asset.”
Yulong began to help Takeo and gestured toward a barrel. “Grab a pumpkin. It will help you to get to know Kasumi.”
Tengfei went over to the barrel and picked a healthy-looking gourd, speckled with various shades of green. He approached Kasumi warily and then lifted the pumpkin. She examined him before pecking at his offering, puncturing a hole right through the middle. Another peck ripped it from his grip and the pumpkin quickly disappeared. Tengfei was glad he looked nothing like a fish and that his hands were still intact.
“We’ll take Kasumi,” Takeo said. “Ryuu will follow.”
The samurai tugged on a couple more straps and rechecked the fittings.
“Can’t be too careful. It’s a long way down.”
“We should hurry before Youta gets too far,” Tengfei said.
The samurai looked out at the horizon. “We’ll catch up.”
He barked a command and the bird crouched, allowing them to climb into the saddles. When they had fastened in, he shouted another command and the bird stood.
“Good luck,” Yulong said. “Safe journey.”
“Be well,” Tengfei responded.
“Farewell, monk,” Takeo said.
Kasumi hopped a step and spread her wings. A couple of bounds later and they lifted off.
Tengfei’s heart rose. He watched Yulong shrink from view as the toren’s powerful wings thrust them into the sun-filled heights. Gusts of air brushed past his face. As he was tossed around his saddle by the bird’s movements, a feeling of gratitude emerged for Takeo’s care and thoroughness in fastening the harness. They leveled off over the water and the ride grew much less turbulent.
“This is amazing. First, a chi shard on my neck, and now I am flying.”
Takeo laughed. “I thought you monks rode dragons over there in Shaolin.”
“No, nothing like this. Nothing at all like this.”
Kasumi let out a shrill bird cry and Ryuu echoed behind them. They soared for miles before spotting the white sails of a ship at sea.
19
WONG SETTLED INTO the bubbling, oozing mud. Hot springs heated the murky pool from beneath while a trickle of water splashed from a higher reservoir. Thick forest wrapped the spring on all sides, with more markings on the trees like the one Wong found the previous day. He closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the pain from his battered and beaten body be soothed. This wasn’t an ordinary mud pool; there was dark chi in it. He slapped additional mud on his stiff shoulder, courtesy of Gaiman, a fight that seemed like an eternity ago.
Renshu appeared. “How is it?”
“Weird, but not bad. Is this a chi pool?”
“Barely. Not like the Temple of Masks. But it is our hidden treasure.”
The monkey king carried Wong’s masks, Shenren and Houzon, and propped them against a rock wall. Wong gazed at them. Something was different. The monkey mask looked brighter than before.
“The unan would probably like to know about this place,” Wong said, refocusing on the mud. “This place attracts chi.”
“They already have a pool. We are deep in Tangled
Root Forest. They cannot make it here. We are protected.”
Renshu pointed at the trees and circled his finger in the air.
“Do you mean those markings in the trees?” Wong said. “What are they? I’ve come across them in the forest before.”
“Wards. Magau magic to keep the spirits away.”
“Lo-shur?”
“Yes.”
“Fascinating. We use scrolls.”
“They are all throughout the forest. Draw upon life force of the trees. Disorienting.”
“Don’t the Koon Gee take them down?”
“Yes, but they must find them. Some they take down, some we put up. Always conflict on the edge.”
Wong considered their situation and began to understand the nature of their conflict.
“Thank you for bringing me to this place.”
Renshu jumped into the pool across from Wong and leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head.
“This mask.” Renshu pointed. “Houzon was king before my king.”
“That’s a long time. It must have been hard to fight it.”
“No. The face is the likeness, but not the same. Bits of bone and hair. But not Houzon.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why sorry? I thought to destroy it and put to rest. But instead I give it back to you, for use against the unan. That is a better use.”
Wong focused on it. While it was dark and sullen before, it was lighter now, almost golden. Different shades were applied so that it was no longer monochrome. The mask had gone from a dead thing to something that had life.
“It looks different now.”
“Yimae changed it. More like Houzon now.”
“Thank you. I’ll try my best to live up to the honor.” He reflected. “I can feel him in there. I sense his chi, see images.”
“Then do not disappoint.”
Wong wondered if he could think of the mask as a king and protector of the magaus rather than a talisman of evil. It would be nice if he could convince Jaguan of the same, though deep down inside he knew the mask was more unan than it was magau.
“Tell me more about this demon that you hunt,” Renshu asked. “Why do you seek it? What difference can one make?”