The Dragon Warrior

by Katie Zhao

  “Moli, charge!” I screamed.

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” Even as she said this, Moli yanked on the reins and urged the horses forward. They took off in a burst of speed. My head careened back into the chariot in a collision of pain.

  “Good news,” Moli bellowed. “This yāo guài is giving me a crash course in charioteering. Bad news—we might literally get a crash course in charioteering!”

  The yāo guài flew above us with a cackle. The demon was toying with us. “I spent decades mastering Taoism to become this powerful, mortals. You won’t kill me that easily!”

  Alex thrust out with his weapon as Moli pulled the chariot upward, but the yāo guài dodged us with ease. I took advantage of our momentary stability to pull Fenghuang out of my hair.

  I knew what to do. I repeated the incantation Guanyin had taught me: “Ǎn ma ne bā mī hōng!” Fenghuang shifted into its full golden glory in my palm. “I’ll take this one, Alex.”

  My brother fell back wordlessly.

  The yāo guài’s white fangs glinted against the night sky as it paused at the sight of Fenghuang. The boys pulled up behind us, Luhao in full control of the horses, but the demon only had eyes for us now. The hungry look on its face sent a shiver up my spine.

  “Fenghuang,” it sneered. “I see you’ve brought me a present.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Xīn nián kuài lè! Happy New Year!”

  Gripping the spear above my head, I thrust it toward the yāo guài. The demon dodged the point of my weapon, sailing through the air. The chariot rocked more violently, and my hip smashed against the side. Pain shot up my body.

  “Kill it, Faryn! What’re you waiting for?” Alex bellowed.

  Answers. An instruction manual. I had no clue how to use Fenghuang. Cold sweat gathered in my palms. The fight with the hú lì jīng must’ve been a fluke. The power and warmth I’d felt before had abandoned me, and I had no clue how to activate it. I jabbed desperately at the yāo guài, gripping the side of the chariot for balance.

  “Pathetic. You don’t deserve to wield that magnificent weapon.” The yāo guài swooped down. It spread its arms, yellow cape billowing in the wind, and sucked in another breath. This time the wind was so strong it sent searing pain through my body. Our chariot bashed into the three boys’. The horses whinnied in panic.

  I pressed a hand to my stinging cheek. Blood came away on my fingertips, along with grains of sand.

  “S-sandstorm!” Wang cried.

  The yāo guài had paused its attack and was shaping something with its hands. As it grew, I realized what it was—a tornado.

  Wang lunged at the demon with his sword as Luhao pulled them within combat range, but his swings were useless. The wind billowed around us and threatened to yank my hair out of my head. As the horses fought to keep us in the air, their whinnies reached a crescendo. I lifted my spear and flung it in front of my face, keeping the other in a death grip on the side of the chariot. It was all I could do to hold on to Fenghuang.

  “Useless!” Luhao screamed above the howl of the storm.

  The wind bit at my exposed skin. He was right. I was useless. I was only half a warrior, unfit to hunt demons, much less become the Heaven Breaker. I held one of the most powerful weapons in the world—and had no idea what to do with it.

  Despair twisted my gut. Why had the gods chosen me to be the Heaven Breaker?

  “Faryn!”

  Alex’s scream jolted me out of my thoughts. The yāo guài’s tornado had grown to easily twenty feet tall. The demon wound its arm back, as though preparing to unleash the storm. My brother clutched the side of the chariot with his fingers, his body blown so far backward that one good blast would send him over the edge.

  I cried out. The wind was too strong. I couldn’t move to help Alex.

  Think. What had I done differently to kill the hú lì jīng in the temple?

  The temple. The place of the gods.

  Guanyin had said Fenghuang could grant me the power of the gods. Back at the temple—I’d prayed.

  Even though the idea of owing more favors to the gods didn’t sit well with me, I didn’t see another choice. The split second before the yāo guài unleashed its tornado, I sent a silent prayer to the goddess who’d first given me the power to wield Fenghuang—the Queen Mother of the West, Xi Wangmu, wife to the Jade Emperor.

  Xi Wangmu, please help me send this yāo guài to Diyu.

  My limbs surged with power—the same feeling of invincibility that had helped me defeat the nián and the hú lì jīng.

  As though they’d read my mind, the horses fought against the howling wind and charged toward the yāo guài. I squinted as much as I dared against the violent storm, and slashed Fenghuang at the demon. The crystallized point drove through the tunnel of wind and met its target with a burst of light.

  With a shriek, the yāo guài dissolved under the force of the strike. The tornado vanished. The wind settled. Breathing heavily, I watched as its form crumpled into a wisp of smoke that floated away.

  Alex slumped onto the bottom of the chariot. He was quaking from head to foot. For a long moment, there were only the sounds of the horses whinnying in protest.

  “What”—my brother turned to me, openmouthed—“did you just do?”

  Good question. “That’s not important,” I shouted, pointing in front of us, where the wind had blown Wang and the others away. My eyes zeroed in on the black book Wang clutched in his hand. “Get the notebook!”

  Moli obeyed. The horses kicked up bursts of cloud behind us, and we surged toward the brown chariot, gaining on the boys with each second.

  But something was wrong. The other chariot had slowed. The wooden chariot first stuttered, then stopped, and then began to fall, dropping like a ton of bricks.

  Wang and Luhao screamed. Moli urged our horses after the falling chariot.

  Alex’s fingers reached for Wang’s outstretched hand, as though he were trying to catch him. Instead, my brother snatched the black notebook out of Wang’s flailing arm, ignoring the fact that the boy was literally plunging to his doom. “Gotcha!”

  “No!” I screamed. I lunged past my brother, shoving him aside to grab Wang’s fingers. I hoisted with all my strength.

  But Wang’s fingers were too sweaty. I clung to his hand, desperate to get a solid hold. His eyes widened as they met mine; his mouth parted. For the first time, an anguished expression crossed his face. The face of a boy truly fearful. A boy looking upon death.

  Wang’s fingers slipped out of mine. His body plunged downward into free fall.

  CHAPTER

  10

  As the boys plunged toward Earth, I knew I had to save them. Even if the gods seemed to have left Wang and Luhao for dead after we’d overtaken them in the “challenge,” this wasn’t right.

  For one thing, the poor dead folks in Diyu shouldn’t have to put up with these morons for eternity just yet.

  “Moli, save them!” I shouted.

  “Jià!” Moli drove the chariot downward, chasing the falling bodies. The chariot jerked until it was horizontal and caught the screaming boys.

  Wang landed with a thud at my feet, and Luhao landed on top of Wang.

  “Get off me!” Wang shouted.

  “I can’t!” roared Luhao. “There’s nowhere to go!”

  The decently roomy four-person chariot had now become a very cramped space full of flailing arms and legs. I hissed at Wang when his arm whacked my foot.

  The boys’ chariot had plunged to Earth, but their horses twirled in joyous circles before soaring off into the distance.

  “Deities, what kind of trash chariot was that?” Wang demanded, sitting up and rubbing his hair, elbowing Luhao in the process. “It almost killed us!”

  “Miserable gods,” Luhao grunted. “I can’t believe Xi Wangmu gave us a faulty ride after we prayed to her.”

  Wang smacked his head. “And after I offered her my last pack of strawberry Pocky.”

  Somehow the im
age of the heir to the Jade Society offering strawberry Pocky to the goddess didn’t quite process in my mind. But then again, how well did I know Wang, anyway?

  And why had Xi Wangmu helped me—but not them?

  “Faryn, you’re too nice,” said Alex. “Should’ve just let these guys fall to their deaths.”

  “Say that again,” spat Luhao, but Wang held him back.

  I blinked. The intense anger on my brother’s face frightened me. “What? You can’t be serious.”

  “It’s the least they deserve.”

  Luhao raised a fist, with great difficulty, considering his foot was now in Wang’s face. “Say that again, you filthy little—”

  “That’s enough,” Wang interrupted, shoving the other boy’s foot away. “They saved us.”

  Luhao looked stunned by the rebuke. He cast his eyes downward. “Whatever.”

  The heir to the Jade Society stood up, wincing and rubbing his neck. “We, um … we owe you guys.”

  “No kidding,” I said.

  Alex glowered. “You can repay us by taking a hike to Diyu. Three thousand feet, straight down. Can’t miss it.”

  “Bye-bye, boys,” Moli added in a sweet voice.

  Wang bit his lip. “And we’re sorry we took the notebook.”

  “I’m not,” scoffed Luhao.

  If Ye Ye were here, he’d want me to forgive them. But Ye Ye was gone. I swallowed and blinked back tears. And I wasn’t prepared to let these guys off the hook.

  “So why’d you steal the notebook, then?” I demanded.

  “My mother—well, you know how she is,” said Wang. “She insisted I was the Heaven Breaker. She told me I’d bring her honor—and riches—if I became a general for the Jade Emperor. She knew about your father’s research and notebook, so I—I …” Wang closed his eyes. “But I’m not the Heaven Breaker. And I don’t want to be a general.” The tips of Wang’s ears flushed bright red. “I—I want to be an actor, okay?”

  Luhao nearly fell out of the chariot. “What?”

  “Every Lunar New Year parade, I get to play the hero who slays the nián,” Wang mumbled, “and it’s the highlight of my whole year.”

  Luhao stared at Wang as though he were already looking at a dead man. “Dude, your mama’s gonna kill you.”

  “You don’t have to do everything Mao says, you know,” Alex said sourly.

  Wang shook his head. “That’s just it. I do. Our families immigrated to America to follow the demons, so we could slay them with ease and protect the people of Earth. My mom’s family sacrificed everything to come here. Going against her dream, it’s …”

  Luhao blinked. Then he put a hand on Wang’s shoulder, sighing. “I get you, dude. When I was a kid—”

  “Aren’t you still a kid?” Alex muttered.

  “—I wanted to be an engineer, but my old man said demon slaying is cooler. Well, before we stopped slaying demons.”

  “Being an engineer would be cool,” Wang said. “Anyway, I … think I’m going back. It is the Lunar New Year, after all. We should be with our families.”

  Wang looked at Luhao for support. The other boy crossed his arms over his chest but finally nodded.

  “How’re you guys getting back to the Jade Society? You don’t even have a chariot anymore,” I pointed out.

  “Uh … a taxi?” Wang suggested.

  Luhao looked ready to smack him. “You sure you aren’t more suited to being a comedian instead?” Then his eyes darted in Moli’s direction.

  Moli folded her arms. “Oh no. Nuh-uh. If you boys think we’re dropping you off to your mommies, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not a chauffeur.”

  “But we own two of those horses,” Wang pointed out. “Zongma. Feikuai.” Each name he called was followed by the horse’s whinny of response. “We’ll take them and get out of your hair.”

  With those two horses gone, we’d lose almost half our speed—but our pace had been too fast anyway. If we kept it up all the way to Peng Lai Island, my skin would peel right off my body.

  “All right,” Alex said grudgingly. “Take your horses and scram.”

  Moli’s scowl deepened as the two boys each released their horses from the reins. I didn’t want to give up the horses either, but if we didn’t, we’d have to take these losers with us. And none of us wanted that.

  With difficulty, the boys mounted the flying horses. Luhao trembled from head to foot and squeezed Feikuai’s neck so tightly that the horse bucked in protest.

  Wang bowed his head. “Good luck.”

  He’d need luck more than we did, as soon as Mao found out he’d given up on being a Heavenly General to pursue acting.

  The two boys kicked their horses and took off into a blaze of pink-and-orange sunrise, until they became specks in the distance.

  Alex turned to me. “Okay, now it’s time for you to explain how you’re such a good fighter. You killed a demon just now, but that wasn’t your first, was it? Ye Ye said you slayed the nián.”

  “What?” The chariot lurched as Moli yanked too hard on the horses’ reins. “She slayed what?”

  “Helped,” I clarified. “Erlang Shen killed the demon. I just, um, beat it up.”

  “Beat it up.” An incredulous expression stretched over Alex’s face. “My dorky older sister. Beating up ancient demons. When did you turn into a kung fu movie protagonist?”

  “Uh … about twenty-four hours ago.”

  My heart sank when Alex looked—as though I’d become a stranger. He buried his face back into Ba’s book. “Look at you, defeating demons left and right. You’re turning into the warrior Ye Ye and Ba always wanted. You might not even need Ba’s help.”

  I swallowed. “Of course I do. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Alex muttered. “Why do you get to do all the cool things?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t asked to face the nián or be the Heaven Breaker. What right did I have to wield the powerful weapon—a girl who had only one foot in the warrior world?

  My eyes burned with tears. I pictured Ye Ye’s smile. Grief clawed at my heart, but I didn’t let the tears fall. If I could exchange my grandfather’s life for the spear, I would in a heartbeat. Guanyin had been convinced that Ye Ye would be deified. I had no idea how long that would take—if it was half as complicated as the United States citizenship process, I’d be dead before my grandfather made it to Heaven—but there was hope.

  “As much as I hate to interrupt a fight between you siblings,” Moli called from the front, “I think it might be a better use of our time to figure out where the heck we’re going.”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. Swallowing back my frustration, I recalled the riddle embedded in the warrior god’s proclamation. “Erlang Shen said I—we—have to, uh … get some animal that’s named after … somebody—”

  Alex heaved a great sigh. “No, he said: ‘First, seek the city named after the Empress to save the animal named after the Emperor.’ ”

  My jaw dropped. “How did you remember that?”

  “I use my brain?”

  I scowled and rapped a knuckle against Alex’s head. “So do I.”

  He swatted my hand away. “Ow! Quit it.”

  “If you’re so smart, then why don’t you figure out what the riddle means, too?”

  “I already have,” Alex said with the exaggerated impatience of an adult speaking to a toddler. “ ‘The city named after the Empress’ can only refer to the phoenix, a bird typically associated with the Empress. There’s one on Xi Wangmu’s statue, remember?”

  I jogged my memory for the statues back in the Jade Society temple and gasped. Alex was right.

  “As for the animal named after the Emperor, that can only be the dragon. As in, the dragon on the Jade Emperor’s statue.” Alex clapped his hands together. “So, first we have to seek ‘the city named after the Empress.’ That means we have to find a dragon in Phoenix, Arizona. Leave it to me.”

&nbs
p; Alex raised Ba’s notebook, showing a hand-drawn map, and stuck his nose back into its pages.

  “Finding a dragon shouldn’t be too hard,” Moli said sarcastically. “Maybe we can check the local zoo.”

  At least the gods wanted us to find a dragon, and not an ant or something. I figured there was a pretty small chance of us missing a huge mythological creature like that in the middle of the city.

  Alex shouted out directions to Moli, and as much as she complained, she followed them exactly. This went on for long enough that I was feeling pretty useless looking down at the house-dotted landscape below.

  “Most of Phoenix’s Chinatown isn’t publicly known the way San Francisco’s is,” said Alex. “They’ve kept the majority of the temples and other buildings in a secret neighborhood on the outskirts of town to avoid tourists and other unwanted visitors.”

  “Then how do you even know where we’re going?” shouted Moli.

  Alex held up Ba’s notebook. “Well, I have insider info.”

  We were low enough to the ground that I could see the red lanterns dotting the city. “Wait—is that a Chinatown?”

  Alex stood up, rocking slightly in the face of a gust of wind. He leaned his head over the edge and gasped. “Moli, we made it. Go down!”

  “Whoa—aren’t we trying to get to Phoenix?” I protested.

  “That is Phoenix down there,” Alex said, throwing me an exasperated look. “Phoenix’s Chinatown. That’s where we have to go. I’m sure of it.” My brother opened the black notebook and squinted at the page. “Even though they don’t have a society of warriors there like San Francisco does, Ba praised the wise monks who guard the temple. He said they knew the answers to all his questions.” He snapped the book closed and flashed me a triumphant grin. “I bet they’d know where to find our dragon.”

  “You think a couple of bald men will solve our problems?” Moli spluttered.

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  Moli grumbled but commanded the horses into a rapid descent toward Earth. I clung onto the side of the chariot. Once we reached the island, I was never going to step foot on a chariot ever again. Or anything that moved faster than two miles per hour.