Jeff Stone_Five Ancestors 02
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Malao gasped and Tonglong snapped his head up. Tonglong locked eyes with Malao and grinned. Malao twitched. He knew he should run, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes from Tonglong's face. For the briefest of moments, Tonglong looked just like someone he knew. …
Transfixed, Malao watched Tonglong turn his attention back to Ying. Tonglong ripped Ying's robe wide open, exposing Ying's bare chest. Ying's rib cage rose and fell steadily. Ying was still alive.
Tonglong stood and adjusted his long braid. He pointed down at Ying and addressed the soldiers. “Look! The scroll Major Ying carried is missing. Did any of you see who took it?”
The soldiers all shook their heads.
“No one saw anything?” Tonglong asked. “Nothing?”
The soldiers all lowered their heads and shuffled their feet.
“What are you men ashamed of?” Tonglong said. His voice boomed. “Raise your heads and stand strong! None of you did anything wrong. I've been observing you for months now, and time after time I see the same thing—soldiers who are afraid to act. Men who are paralyzed with indecision. Men who have the right instincts, but are unsure of whether or not they should take action, so they do nothing. This is a problem. But it is not your problem. As your number one, it is my problem. And I intend to fix it.”
The soldiers all looked up at Tonglong. Their eyes widened.
Tonglong sighed. “It is my opinion that you men are afraid to take action because you are afraid of failure. Unfortunately, failure in Major Ying's camp means punishment. We need to change that.”
Tonglong made eye contact with each of the soldiers. “Gentlemen, I promise I'll do whatever I can to make your lives easier. In the meantime, we have some unfinished business. We must find the young monks. Now listen closely and take heed. We are sure to encounter many different creatures in the not-too-distant future, and each has unique skills. The leopard, for example, is the fastest and most agile animal in the forest, but it lacks stamina. Look—here lies one incapacitated after a few short bursts of energy. I am certain that ahead of us lie a monkey, a tiger, and a snake. The tiger can stay on the move for days and the monkey for weeks, but it is the snake that concerns me most. The snake does not have to run. It is a master of camouflage, and it strikes hardest when you least expect it. You have all seen firsthand how perfectly one played dead here today, only to strike when no one was paying attention. I suggest you keep your eyes and ears open at all times and watch where you step, for the snake now has the scrolls and we must get them back.”
Tonglong raised a fist high. “Are you with me, men?”
The soldiers responded as one. “YES, SIR!”
Tonglong smiled and glanced back at Malao. Malao nearly fell out of the tree. He realized that when Tonglong smiled, he looked just like …
“Come on, little brother,” Seh whispered from behind Malao. “Let's get out of here.”
Malao jumped. He turned and looked at Seh. His eyes widened.
It cant be …, Malao thought. He glanced over at Tonglong, then back at Seh with his newly grown hair. Malao's mouth dropped open. “W-what on earth is going on?”
“I have no idea,” Seh replied. “Now quit daydreaming. We have to get out of here. Fu is waiting for us.”
“But—”
“Now!” Seh said. He grabbed Malao's arm and yanked him into the forest.
Malao looked back at Tonglong one last time.
Tonglong winked.
I'd like to thank my editors, Jim Thomas and Schuyler Hooke, for their continued hard work and dedication to this series, not to mention all the weekend hours they put in on Monkey. Thanks, guys! I'm also grateful for the fantastic work illustrator Richard Cowdrey and graphic designer Joanne Yates have done on the series covers. Bravo!
Laura Rennert, my agent, deserves a tremendous thank-you for everything she continues to do for me on the business end and beyond, as does Barry Eisler, author, attorney, martial artist, and friend.
A significant portion of Monkey was written at Andy and Ruth Ann Anderson's cottage (on the lake!), so I have to thank them. I also need to thank my kung fu instructor, John Vaughn of Shaolin-Do, for his endless patience with my hectic schedule.
My parents, Roger and Arlene Stone, and my brothers, Joe and Jaysen Stone, never strayed far from my mind as I wrote Monkey. They definitely deserve a lot of thanks. I'd also like to say thanks to my “newest” family members for opening the door when I came knocking. That would be my birth mother, Sandra Kijorski, and her adult children, Scott McAlpine and Shannon Rumph.
The biggest thanks of all go to my wife, Jeanie, and our children, Tristen and Owen, who continue to support me in every way, day after day. I couldn't do it without you, Jeanie. Thank you!
Excerpt copyright © 2006 by Jeffrey S. Stone
Published by Random House Children's Books
Eight-year-old Seh slid his lanky body along the enormous rafter high above the Cangzhen banquet table, doing his best to disturb as little dust as possible. Even in a room as dark as this, Grandmaster would notice a single particle drifting toward the floor. Grandmaster was that good.
But Seh was better. As long as he didn't lose focus.
Once in position, Seh stretched to his full length and flattened himself against the top of the wooden beam. He began to slow his breathing. His heart rate slowed to that of a hibernating reptile beneath a sheet of ice. Seh began to wait.
An hour later, Grandmaster entered the room. Although Grandmaster didn't say a word, Seh knew exactly who it was. He sensed powerful chi—life energy— radiating from Grandmaster's body like heat from the sun.
Seh slowed his breathing further. He needed to keep his heart rate as slow as possible so that the chi coursing through his own nervous system would not alert Grandmaster to his presence. As long as he remained calm, Grandmaster would not detect him. Dragon-style kung fu masters like Grandmaster and Seh's brother Long possessed tremendous amounts of chi, but they weren't particularly good at detecting it in others. Snake stylists like Seh, however, were masters at detecting the most minute amounts in any living creature.
As Grandmaster stepped farther into the hall, Seh heard a second man stop in the doorway. Seh took a long, slow breath.
Seh focused on the visitor and noticed something strange. The man seemed to possess no chi at all, which was impossible. All living things possessed chi. This could mean only one thing—Grandmaster's visitor was masking his, something only snake-style kung fu masters knew how to do. And the only snake-style master to ever visit Grandmaster in the middle of the night was—
One corner of Seh's mouth slid down his long face in a lopsided frown. He peeked over the rafter toward the moonlit doorway and his eyes confirmed what the pit of his stomach already knew. Grandmaster's visitor was a man named Mong, a local bandit leader. Mong meant “python” in Cantonese. Seh had had more than one humiliating encounter with the gigantic snake-style kung fu master over the years, and he had no interest in seeing the man again.
Grandmaster turned to Mong and whispered, “Do you sense that we are alone?”
Seh remained perfectly still and watched Mong scan the room. Seh was enshrouded in darkness and positioned at a severe angle from the doorway. He was certain he was invisible. Yet when Mong's eyes hesitated as they passed over the rafter, Seh knew he had been discovered. Mong had sensed his chi. Seh was about to begin his retreat when Mong turned toward Grandmaster.
“Yes, we are alone,” Mong said. “Nothing here but the occasional small pest.” Mong entered the hall and closed the doors behind him.
Seh clenched his teeth. Pest? he thought. Seh wondered whether Mong was trying to make him angry so that his heart rate would rise and he'd reveal himself. There was nothing Seh hated more than getting caught when he was sneaking around.
Seh did his best to stay calm. He needed to stay focused. He suspected that Grandmaster and Mong were both dealers of secrets. They would trade them like other people traded gold for silk or silver for swor
ds. Seh wanted those secrets. Especially if they involved him and his brothers—and Seh had a hunch they would.
“What news do you bring?” Grandmaster asked Mong. “And what might you require in return for sharing it?”
“I have no new information,” Mong replied. “This visit is purely personal.”
Grandmaster nodded. “The boys are progressing well,” he said. “I suspect they'll all be masters in record time. Though I worry about the maturity level of some of them. Fu and Malao in particular come to mind.”
Mong chuckled. “I imagine Fu and Malao could be a handful, especially if they're together. How is Long doing?”
“Very well,” Grandmaster replied. “He is wise beyond his years.”
“That's good,” Mong said. “And what about the girl?”
“Hok is progressing well, too.”
Seh nearly tumbled off the rafter. Hok? A girl? He took a long, slow breath. Mong was trying to break his concentration, and that last bit of information had nearly done it. But Seh was certain he could remain calm, no matter what Mong said next.
He was wrong.
“And what about my son?” Mong asked.
No …, Seh thought. It can't be. … He swallowed hard as his heart began to beat in his throat. He couldn't control it. He glared down at Mong, wondering if it was a trick.
It wasn't.
Grandmaster glanced up at the beam. “Seh is also progressing well. Perhaps too well. I worry about him most of all.”
Text copyright © 2005 by Jeffrey S. Stone
Cover illustration copyright © 2005 by Richard Cowdrey
All rights reserved.
Yearling and the jumping horse design are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc. The Five Ancestors is a trademark of Jeffrey S. Stone.
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eISBN-13: 978-0-375-89177-9
v3.0