Author: Harmon Cooper
Date: 2020-01-06 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Fantasy
Description: In search of Hugo and a reincarnated monk, Nick Barnette and company make their way to the Island Kingdom of Jonang. At least that’s the plan. Their ship is attacked, leading to an epic fight that separates Nick's party. Things only get more complicated once they arrive on the island and find that a newly crowned emperor has wreaked havoc on the natives, an emperor Nick is intimately familiar with. It’s going to take all the runes Nick has learned plus a deeper knowledge of his own ability if he hopes to best the emperor and find the reincarnated monk, and that’s not to mention the wind spirit
Publisher: Boycott Books

Way of the Immortals

Path of Possession

(Book Three)

By Harmon Cooper

Copyright © 2020 by Harmon Cooper

Copyright © 2020 Boycott Books

Edited by Adam Luopa

Audiobook narrated by Neil Hellegers

www.harmoncooper.com
writer.harmoncooper@gmail.com

Twitter: @_HarmonCooper

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Book Two Recap

Warning: Contains Spoilers

Here’s the link to Book One if you missed it: https://geni.us/Way-of-the-Immortals

And Book Two: https://geni.us/Way-of-the-Immortals

In Way of the Immortals Book Two, Divine Madness, Nick continues to improve his ability to control time. The Exonerated One’s monastery is attacked by Sona, Baatar the hermit is killed, and Nick and company head to higher ground to find a copy of a book that Lhandon believes will help them better understand the Immortals. Along the way, they run into Roger, who is seemingly back from the dead. Roger is with Bobby, Nick’s friend, who is suffering from a lotus addiction.

Upon calling Saruul, Nick and company head to Dornod, the snow lion village. While Lhandon works to recodify the Path of the Divine, Nick trains with Saruul’s mother. After spending some time there, Nick, Lhandon, Tashi the fire spirt, and Roger cross the Great Plateau to reach the city of Sarpang. Nick gets lost in the desert, and his double, an ephemeral replica of him, leads Nick back to his friends. Their goal is to go to the Island Kingdom of Jonang, where there are rumors an outsider has appeared. Nick hopes this outsider is Hugo, another old friend.

While Tashi and Roger are upstairs, Nick and Lhandon are taken prisoner by an evil monk named Gomchen, who is employed by Sona. They are tortured, and Nick sees his double again, whom he asks to go for help. Nick and Lhandon are rescued by Saruul, her mother, as well as a mysterious lion man whom Nick trained with back in Dornod.

After a fight with the evil monk named Gomchen, they rush to the docks to escape to the Island Kingdom. In the end, Saruul ends up going with Roger, Nick and Lhandon to the Island Kingdom, while Tashi the fire spirit stays with Saruul’s mother and the mysterious lion man.

Stages of the Path of the Divine

Map of the Five Kingdoms

Chapter One: Uninvited Guests

Pirates.

Because of course there were pirates.

We had been on the ship all of thirty-six hours before the pirates showed up. We heard the swords, the cries above deck, the patter of feet.

I looked to Roger and then to Saruul, who nodded, ready to launch into action.

Lhandon, who already stood near the door, simply shook his head. “And just as I was about to start up my prostrations for the day,” the monk lamented, an icy tentacle sparking around his hand. “I’m ready.”

“What can I say? This is always a possibility when you are on a ship,” I told him, going for my Flaming Thunderbolt.

“You’re going to run around on the wooden deck of a wooden ship with the fire sword?” Roger asked. The tropical bird landed on my shoulder, clucking as I placed my hand on the hilt of my blade.

“Good call,” I told him as I left my weapon sheathed. “Very good call.”

“A snow lioness fighting pirates on a ship…” Saruul’s ears flattened.

“I told you it would be an adventure, honey,” I said to her as I made my way out the door, through the hold, and to the nearest ladder. I glanced up and took a deep breath before placing my foot on the first rung, the sounds of more cries, weapons, and waves reaching my ears.

“Honey? Is that what we’re calling her now?” Roger asked.

“That’s what I’m calling her,” I said as I looked to the blue sky above, jarring when compared to the darkness of the hold. “Here we go.”

I came up and immediately cast the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes, Gyal-Ma. A pirate came at me with his scimitar drawn, his face a mask of hate and animosity.

I barely managed to step aside, avoiding his strike. I threw my fist into the side of his head, a wave of energy rippling in the air around my knuckles as they connected with his temple.

He hit the deck with a loud oomph!

The pirates were fairly easy to separate from the Druk sailors, most notably by the fact they weren’t reptilian. They had blood-red skin and black tribal tattoos. Their ship was a lot smaller than Tsegi’s merchant vessel, a dinghy of sorts.

And the majority of them seemed to be coming from the quarter deck.

Saruul emerged from the hold, the beautiful lioness morphing midair as she tackled a pirate. The two slid across the deck, the lioness going to town with her sharp claws, startling a couple more pirates.

I saw Tsegi battling a few of them using Saruul’s sword, which the lioness had traded for our safe passage to the Island Kingdom of Jonang. Tsegi was fast and fluid with her movements, true confidence in her swordplay as she cut swashbucklers down and parried any attack that came close to her.

I still wasn’t able to draw my sword, especially with the sails whipping in the air above me. While I could be careful with my blade, if something were to happen, if I were tossed into the main mast, or somehow launched into the air, it would spell disaster for the ship.

With this in mind, I made my way forward with my fists, starting to focus on my breath, visualizing the switch that activated my ability to slow down time.

One of the pirates launched himself at me, his blade striking my bicep.

I absorbed his hit, the man staring at me in utter shock as I swung my fist wide and connected with his chin. Spit, blood, and a couple teeth flew in an arc out of his mouth as he went up and back. He landed on the deck and I dropped to one knee, delivering a final chop to his throat.

I saw a flash of blue and yellow whip by, Roger doing his best to distract some of the pirates.

Another man lunged for me and I shoulder-tossed him overboard, which I figured would be the best place to send a pirate had it not been for the way that Tsegi turned to me, still dodging strikes, terror in her eyes.

“What?” I started to mouth.

Saruul tore past me, tackling a pirate to the deck and going straight for his jugular.

I narrowly avoided another attack and brought my fist into the man’s gut, bile spraying out of the man’s mouth.

I still couldn’t understand why Tsegi had looked at me with terror in her eyes, but she was too far away for me to ask, and there were too many pirates anyway.

Another appeared out of nowhere swinging his scimitar, my ability yet again allowing me to absorb the attack.

But I only had one more attack to absorb now.

I needed to make it count.

Moving toward the center of the main deck, I was just about to engage another pirate when the boat shook, waves rising in the air all around us as a sea dragon lifted from the water.

The blood drained from just about everyone’s face on the ship.

“Nick!”

I turned to see Lhandon jumping out of the way, the sea dragon’s tail cracking into the forecastle deck and taking out a good chunk of it. The sea dragon’s tail brought down the foremast, the ropes tearing at the sails.

The terrible beast cried out, a few of the Druk men jumping overboard.

The monster was as large as the one that Hugo, Bobby, and I had encountered in the Sea of Lhasa, its skin glistening and mirror-like, the beast’s terrible maw filled with teeth easily six or seven feet in length.

Its beady eyes locked onto me, at least that’s what it felt like was happening as it reared its neck back and threw itself at the center of the ship.

Saruul, still in her lion form, tackled me, both of us tossed out of the way just in time to avoid the dragon’s body.

The sails gave way, the wood creaked and cracked and splintered, the men screamed, water sprayed into the air all around us.

Both of us went down with the ship.

The main mast fell, cracking against the back of my skull, and it would have killed me had I not absorbed the strike.

I tried to grab onto something to pull myself up. Saruul clamped down onto my thigh, both her claws digging into my flesh.

A great wave lifted us into the air, pushing Saruul and me away from the ship. Saltwater flooded into my mouth, into my nostrils. As I gasped for air, another frothy wave slapped against my face, dragging us under.

Saruul started to morph back to her human form, still clawing her way up my body until her arms wrapped around my neck.

“I can’t swim…” she started to say, on the verge of sobbing. “I can’t…”

“I’ve got you,” I told her as I prepared for the next wave.

I could no longer see the ship, nor did I hear the terrible sea dragon.

The next wave hit us so hard that everything went black for a moment; it felt like I wasn’t going to make it.

My lungs on the verge of exploding, I just barely made it to the surface, sucking a deep breath of air, Saruul still with her arm wrapped around my neck dragging me down.

My next instinct was to find the hilt of my blade, even though it was all but useless in the water. My fingers grazed against it, and once I was sure nothing was missing, another wave lifted Saruul and me, both of us going under again.

We came back up and I spit water, Saruul quivering and apologizing as I tried to get my bearings.

“It’s fine,” I told her. “We’re safe.”

And that’s when I felt something grab my feet from below.

Chapter Two: Shitbirds and Other Oceanic Obstacles

I started kicking my feet, telling Saruul to do so as well.

Several white hands came out of the water and latched onto the lioness, trying to pull both of us down. Their hands were slick, their nails long, their skin porcelain.

“Nick!”

I tried to kick at their fingers, water splashing onto my face as an arm came around my neck. Saruul sank her teeth into the arm, my reaction being to go for my weapon, the only thing that was going to be able to protect me.

And it turned out to be the right choice.

I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, feeling the weight of the blade underwater and noticing that… the flame was still going, illuminating the dark water and revealing a group of pale men and women, all nude, the same ones that had once tried to drag me under at the Sea of Lhasa.

“Get back!” I shouted, mostly to give myself the courage to keep swimming, to hold on tightly to the hilt of my weapon as I tried to bat them away underwater.

One of the braver beings came forward, and as it did, I managed to drive my sword through his chest, the blade poking out his back, the water filled with thousands of tiny orange bubbles.

The rest of the pale underwater people fanned out as the man I’d stabbed lowered toward them. Once he was within arm’s reach, a few of them swam up to grab him.

“We have to keep moving,” I told Saruul, still holding onto her, now swimming backward with my sword underwater, aimed at our aggressors.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I can’t swim.”

“I’m sure you can swim, just move your arms…”

“We don’t really swim, snow lions,” she told me as I continued to try to paddle away from the pale underwater people.

“There you are!”

I looked up to see the outline of a bird, the sun causing a corona of light making me want to shield my eyes.

“Roger,” I shouted up to him. “Damn, am I glad to see you!”

“I haven’t located Lhandon yet,” he said, flapping in the air above us.

Still paddling and holding onto Saruul, I glanced back down beneath the surface of the water, noticing that no one was coming after us now, that the pale people that lurked beneath the waves were gone.

“I swear, sometimes I wish I were about a thousand times my size so I could take out one of those sea dragons,” Roger said. “Can you imagine me just flying in the air and picking one off like it was a worm? Good eating!”

“Roger, please find land,” Saruul said. “I can’t swim.”

“Can’t swim? Fuck that. Yes, you can,” Roger told her. “Just turn into a lion; I’m sure you will instinctively figure it out. Back at my bird school…”

“Enough, Roger!” I said, feeling Saruul squeeze me tighter.

“No, do it, Saruul, I know you can,” he said, lowering near her, his voice firm. “I believe all creatures can. Swim, lioness, swim like your life depends on it!”

“Will you hold onto me?” she asked me.

“I’m sort of holding onto a sword underwater right now and…”

“Just do it!”

“Okay, okay,” Saruul told Roger, furrowing her brow. “I can do this!”

“That’s the goddamn spirit! And while I’m yelling, fuck sea dragons!”

Saruul pressed off me, and as she did, she began to morph into her lion form, instantly sinking. She burst out of the water seconds later, her face and whiskers wet, her eyes still fearful.

“First, we find a shore, any shore,” I told him. “And once we get there…”

“He can’t be dead,” Roger said, not even letting me think it. “Lhandon must have survived. He is a sturdy monk, and true, he would be a pretty good afternoon snack to a shark or a sea dragon, but I don’t believe that was his fate. Plus, he can clearly float. Regardless, there were some lifeboats. I did see that, Tsegi commanding them too. I was too interested in trying to find you to dive down there and see if Lhandon was in one of them, but I’m sure he’s there. He must be.”

“We have to be sure,” I said. “And you are our eyes in the sky.”

“The best bird you know,” Roger said as he started to lift higher. “Just stay put. Well, don’t stay put, but stay heading in the same direction and I will see what I can find. Perhaps there will be a kind seagull that will point us in the right direction. That’s a joke. Most seagulls are shifty assholes.”

“Just hurry,” I told him, keeping an eye on Saruul.

She had quickly gotten the hang of swimming and was now moving even faster than me. Another wave came and lifted us, and I had the idea to follow the waves, hoping that they were rising and falling in the direction of the shoreline.

I saw Roger in the air, the bird moving higher and higher until he was no longer visible. Some saltwater spilled into my mouth and I spit it out, suddenly feeling thirsty.

Still continuing onward, I waved my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom in a circle beneath the waves, making sure nothing was coming for me.

As terrifying as this was, I had to believe that we were going to make it.

What felt like an hour passed this way, my arms growing tired. I had never swum so much in my life, and I was starting to fear what would happen if we weren’t able to find land by nightfall.

I tried to think about other things as Saruul and I continued onward, from narrowly escaping Gomchen’s evil torture chamber to crossing the Great Plateau. I knew that there were going to be obstacles in our way, but a ship attacked by pirates followed by a sea dragon was something I would have never predicted.

But now, as I swam toward what I hoped was land, it made sense.

Ironic sense, but sense nonetheless.

And I had to smile. I had to stay positive, believing that Saruul and I wouldn’t drown, that there was land and that we would make it there.

Reinvigorated by my inner monologue, I caught up to the beautiful lioness, swimming even faster than she was for a moment, ignoring the strain in my arms, the occasional butterflies in my stomach as I remembered that anything could be beneath me.

Anything.

I only hoped we were going in the right direction.

It was at least another hour before Roger returned, the bird lowering onto Saruul’s head, much to her chagrin.

“Relax,” he told her as she growled. “I’ve just been flying all over this godforsaken ocean looking for a place for you two to rest your feet, so let me rest my wings. Because my wings are what are actually tired. I digress. Land. I found it. Go me.”

“Are we going in the right direction?”

“You are,” Roger told me. “At the rate you are swimming, it will take another hour to reach there, maybe longer.”

“So we’re close to the Island Kingdom?” I asked.

“I can’t say for certain that it is the Island Kingdom, but I believe so, yes. I saw a seagull, and lo and behold, he was a real shitbird. I even tried to ask nicely, but no, he squawked at me and said some shit to a pelican flying by about how stupid my color was. Yeah? So I’m blue and yellow, which last I checked, is way better than being beige with a crappy attitude. I told him to get bent, and he tried to shoot me out of the air with ammo from his sphincter.”

“His…” I shook my head, focusing on staying afloat, Roger still perched on Saruul’s head. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, like I said, a real shitbird. Why don’t you believe me when I tell you how some of these animals behave here in my world? Ever heard of projectile vomit? Some of the seagulls have the skill on the reverse, if you get my drift. It’s a defense mechanism, acidic too if it hits you. Saruul, I’m serious, try to hold steady because I don’t want to get wet. Anyway. Fuckers. It doesn’t matter now, though. I got the hell out of there. Long story short: just stay on this course, we will reach the shoreline. After that? That’s not my field of expertise, but I’m sure you and Saruul here can figure it out. Now, if you don’t mind...”

The lioness dipped her head underwater, Roger pressing out of the waves. “Hey!”

“I would be careful with her if I were you,” I told him as he hovered in the air above us. “She may get hungry.”

Saruul and I both lay with our arms spread wide, our faces turned toward each other. We were on a beautiful beach, the sand sparkling white, not a single soul in sight.

And for a moment it felt like we were on vacation.

The sun was starting to set, and as Roger spoke to us, I couldn’t help but place my hand around Saruul’s, squeezing it.

“We made it,” I whispered to her.

The beautiful lioness nodded, her white hair still matted to her forehead. She looked a bit tired yet she seemed happy, a crooked grin on her face.

“Anyway,” Roger was saying, “that’s why birds don’t get haircuts. Not because we don’t have hair, because clearly I do,” he said, the feathers on the top of his head standing to attention. “It’s just considered stupid looking. And then there’s the guy that I mentioned, this dictator bird who was known for getting these really squared off haircuts. No one wants to be like him.”

“Dictator bird?” I asked, looking up at Roger.

The tropical bird hopped around our heads, energetic as ever. “Yes, that was the story I was telling you about. Weren’t you listening?”

“I must have missed that part,” I told him, grinning at Saruul.

As much as I didn’t want to stand, I started to push myself up. My robes were drenched, and to dry them, I had taken them off and laid them out, hoping that the sun would be able to do its thing, even if it was setting.

As I stretched my arms over my head, I saw a few palm trees with long shadows, other tropical foliage in the distance, all of it a bit far from the beach. There were also bird tracks in the sand, which Roger had commented on earlier, claiming they probably belonged to the same seagull that had given him such a hard time.

I wasn’t so sure.

“So, are we just going to rest here for the night?” Roger asked. He picked up a broken seashell with his beak and tossed it to the side. “Because we’ll need to clean up the place if so.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Saruul said as she sat up. She looked out to the water and shivered. “I’m so glad we made it to shore. We will have more energy tomorrow; Roger and I can do a little checking around and hopefully figure out where we are exactly.”

“I could definitely go for some water,” I told her. “You didn’t see any coconuts in those trees, did you, Roger?”

“Can’t help you there, Nick, and even if I had seen some, I don’t know if I’d be able to get them down,” Roger said, flapping his wings. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and run into a friendly bird out there who will point us in the right direction. Hell, I would take a beach fox at this point, if they exist. With a lioness at our side, there’s no need to worry about anybody attacking us. You know, I heard rumors that the birds here were a bit ruder than the birds back home, and I was hoping that those were just rumors. Nope. The birds here suck ass.”

“What about food?” I asked, feeling my stomach rumble.

“Are you suggesting we eat a bird? Because I’m not opposed to it, but I don’t like it,” he said. “Then again, give me another few hours and I may be all for it. You could drink their blood; there’s one way to get fluid. Although that’s pretty twisted too.”

“I was just suggesting food in general.”

“Food, in general, is always a good thing,” Roger said with a shrug. “Actually, Tashi would really come in handy now. I miss that fire spirit. We had a hell of a time following your double over the Great Plateau. Tashi seems all stoic and serious and whatever, but if you let him talk, really hash it out, he has some pretty funny stories about his treasure hunting days. That guy was crazy back when he was alive.”

“I almost forgot about my double,” I said as I took a seat next to Saruul, both of us now watching the water, the sun’s rouge-colored reflection moving over the sluicing waves. “I still have to figure out what that was all about.”

“I’ll admit, the first time you mentioned you had a double, when we were in the plateau, I thought your insanity came from dehydration,” Roger said. “But seeing it myself, especially after it had conferred with you…”

“Nick’s not insane,” Saruul said almost as an afterthought.

“I know he’s not insane, you don’t have to defend him. He’s my friend too, and I’m allowed to talk shit. I’m just saying, if someone tells you, ‘hey, I saw a ghost version of myself,’ you would probably think that they sniffed the wrong lion’s crotch, or however the idiom goes in Dornod.”

“I don’t recall that idiom…” Saruul said, raising an eyebrow at Roger.

“It makes you wonder how many people who are thought to be crazy aren’t actually crazy, and how many people who seem sane are actually batshit insane. That, my friends, is a philosophical conundrum that I am sure unites the world of birds, lions, humans, and maybe a few seagulls too.”

“Such a little philosopher,” Saruul said.

“I do dabble,” Roger told her. “And while I’m small, I don’t consider myself little. There’s a difference.”

“I just hope Lhandon is out there and that he’s okay,” I told them.

I knew that I shouldn’t dwell on it, but he really had become a good friend, and if anything happened to him, especially after what we had survived in the dungeon…

“He will be fine,” Roger said, waving my concern away with his wing. “Don’t worry.”

The sand shifted beneath us.

I rolled to the side, the sand swirling together as it formed into a woman with the lower torso of a snake.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

I dove out of the way just in time, her form blending in again with the sand on the beach, making it impossible to track her.

A hand made of sand came up and tried to catch me.

I rolled to the right, nearing the scabbard of my Flaming Thunderbolt.

I pulled the blade, the flame igniting and whisking through another sandy hand just as it lifted toward me, its fingers outstretched.

Doing this made glass appear almost immediately, the rest of the sand merely falling to the ground and reforming.

“Nick!” Roger shouted.

A tendril of sand came up from behind me and wrapped around my waist.

It lifted me up and slammed me onto the beach, more sand turning into glass as I tried to scramble away.

“We have to run!” Saruul said.

The sand came for her as well and she punched into it, her fist going right through the sandy tendril. A blast of gravel sprayed into my face, the ground beneath me shifting and forming a hole.

I started to claw my way out of it, but as I did more sand rushed in, now up to my waist.

Saruul ran forward, morphing into a lion as she did so. She leaped into the air and smashed into a sandy form, one that was just about to collapse on top of me like a wave.

“Your monkey!” Roger said suddenly, the bird flapping in the air above us, a flash of turquoise and yellow.

Bah-Mo.

Hoping that what we were fighting was indeed a spirit, and that he would be able to help, I ignored the next wave of sand as it cracked against the side of my face while I traced the symbol, starting with a straight line, followed by a downward-facing curl with a leg attached to it. I then quickly “dotted the i” by adding another line and a circle above it, almost as if the second line were cradling it.

Bah-Mo began to take shape, the semi-translucent monkey wearing samurai armor with layered shoulder pads, a vest made of a ribbed material and a skirt adorned with sharpened spikes.

He drew a pair of scimitars, clinked them together, and charged at a wave of sand lifting off the beach.

Bah-Mo cut right into the sand, a screeching sound meeting my ears.

“Kill it, monkey!” Roger shouted from the sky. “Kill it dead!”

I felt the sand around my body constrict.

I reached my hand up, my other hand on my Flaming Thunderbolt. Saruul bolted toward me and grabbed my arm, pulling me out with her teeth.

She morphed back into a human just in time to avoid another towering ripple of sand.

Bah-Mo advanced on the female sand spirit. She attempted to swat him off his feet; he flipped into the air and landed on one of her tendrils, running up it.

She tried to throw him off, Bah-Mo responding by performing an aerial. He shifted gears, using his forward momentum to dive at the woman and drive both his blades into her torso, completely spearing her and bursting out her other side.

The sand spirit fell backward, but rather than filter back into the beach, she merely laid there, Bah-Mo standing on top of her, his blades at the ready as he awaited my command.

“Please…” the woman said, turning her head toward me. “Please, spare me.”

Bah-Mo looked over to me.

“Please…”

“Why did you attack us?” I asked her.

“This is a sacred beach; I’ve sworn to protect it. It is why I have returned to the Middle Plane,” the sand spirit said, her chest moving up and down as she sucked in deep breaths. “Please…”

“I think you should heal her,” Saruul said to me softly.

“Are you sure?”

“Have her swear that she won’t attack us again. Threaten to conjure Bah-Mo again if you need to.”

Roger landed on my shoulder. “I’ve seen a lot of things in this crazy world, but one thing I haven’t seen is a sand spirit getting its ass kicked by a ghost-monkey,” he clucked. “What a life!”

“And you think I should spare her?”

He considered this for a moment. “Sure, we could use a guide around here.”

“It’s fine,” I told Bah-Mo. The monkey took a step away from the woman, his form starting to disappear as he lowered his weapons.

I quickly traced Healing Hand, Lha-Mo, starting with the square on top then making the downward curl with two legs, as well as a curved line beneath the square.

“Are you injured?” I asked Saruul.

Even though she shook her head, I placed my hand on her shoulder anyway, healing any damage she may have sustained during our long swim to the shore. As I approached the sand spirit I also healed myself where Saruul had bitten me, my skin stitching right up.

“I’m going to help you,” I told the sand spirit. “But first, you have to promise not to attack us again.”

“I promise,” she said, desperation in her grainy eyes.

“You also have to promise to answer some questions we have,” I said.

“I promise.”

“What is your name?” I asked her.

“Nyima.”

“I’m Nick,” I said, touching my chest. “The bird is Roger, and that’s Saruul.” I looked at her body and noticed that there was sand running out of her stomach, as if it were an open wound. “I don’t know if this is going to work but…”

I slowly placed my hands on her form. The woman let out a sigh as the grains of sand began to pull back into her body, swirling into place.

“Thank you,” Nyima said once I finished. I stepped away; she began to shift into an upright position, her lower half still that of a serpent. “You have questions?”

“Where are we?” I asked her. “Actually, a better question would be: where is the nearest city?”

“This beach is located between Anand and the Port of Sor. We are closer to Anand, and for an outsider such as yourself, Anand may be safer.”

“How so?” I asked, staring at the woman curiously now. There was something beautiful about her; she almost reminded me of a Greek statue if one were animated and granulated. A wind picked up, some of the grains of sand filtering off her face as it passed.

“Since the new emperor took power, most of the places near Ganbold, which is the capital of the Island Kingdom of Jonang, have been under heightened security as he solidifies his power.”

“And you heard all of that out here?” Roger asked.

“The seagulls told me,” the sand spirit explained. “They can be pretty chatty.”

“So they talk to you?” Roger asked. “Because isn’t that convenient. They wouldn’t say shit to me.”

“They may find your colors a bit jarring,” Nyima explained. “The more colorful birds are inland, in the jungles between Ganbold and the Port of Sor.”

“Good to know the seagulls are racist,” he grumbled. “Good to know.”

“Would you be able to lead us to Anand?” Saruul asked. “That is, if you think it is a better place for us to go. We’re trying to locate a friend.”

“A friend?”

I nodded. “We came from Sarpang. Our ship was attacked by pirates, and then a sea dragon, and we managed to make it to this beach.”

Nyima shook her head. “Wretched things, sea dragons are.”

“Ugly too,” Roger added. “And I know you guys were too busy trying to get away from it, but it reeked of fish guts. Anybody else notice that?”

Nyima smiled at the bird. “You are funny, you know that?”

“I do now,” he said, puffing out his chest some after landing on my shoulder.

“And to answer your question, yes, I can guide you to Anand, but that is as far as I will be able to go. Spirits aren’t allowed near the cities.”

“How can they stop you?” Roger asked. “If I were a spirit, I would go wherever the hell I pleased.”

“I’m sure you would, but to answer your question, they stop us through runes and relics that were built into the four main cities of the island eons ago. Perhaps we could approach some of the smaller villages, but not the cities.”

“You mentioned an emperor,” Saruul said. “What is happening right now in the kingdom? What should we know?”

“Jonang has a new emperor,” Nyima said, biting her lip. “He appears to be incredibly cruel and cunning, and he came to power at the Moon Tournament.”

“The Moon Tournament?” I asked.

“It’s a tournament that represents the changing of the season. The Emperor of the island traditionally allows challengers to his throne, and this year, the challenger won.”

“What happens to the other Emperor?” Roger asked. “The one who lost.”

“He was executed on the spot,” Nyima said solemnly.

“Does this new emperor have a name?” I asked, already starting to feel a tingling sensation in my limbs as she nodded.

“Yes, he does. They call him Emperor Hugo. At least that’s what the seagulls said.”

Chapter Three: The Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers

Nyima lifted her hand into the air, the sand near the shoreline swirling. She created a hole, and as she continued to move sand, the hole filled with clams. With another shift of her hand, a small gorge began to form in the sand, water trickling up from the ground.

The sun was almost completely set now, stars starting to appear in the sky and twinkling against the tops of the waves, the drone of the ocean ever-present. It was the same temperature it had been hours earlier, warm with a nice breeze. Had the Island Kingdom existed in my world, it would have either been a vacation destination, or a place to retire.

“I figured you would be hungry,” she said as more clams appeared. “Thirsty too. The water is fresh and comes from a small aquifer beneath the jungle. It may be a bit sandy, though.”

“It’s something,” I told her as I scooped water into my mouth. “And with the clams, it’s too bad that we can’t make a chowder out of them.”

“A what?” Roger asked, looking up from a clam he was pecking at.

“Chowder is a soup made out of clams; well, it doesn’t have to be clams, but that’s what they usually use where I’m from.”

“Massachusetts,” Saruul said. “I still have trouble understanding how people who live there pronounce this word so casually.”

“You should see some of the names of the places in Rhode Island,” I told her.

“An island of roads?” Roger shook his head with disdain. “The more I hear about your world, the more I disagree with it. We already have enough roads in Lhasa causing congestion.”

“Causing congestion?” I thought of the freeways I’d seen in America, and some of the traffic jams I’d experienced compared to the dirt trails I’d crossed in Lhasa. “You’d be better off staying here,” I finally told Roger, “especially if you don’t like congestion. My world seemingly thrives on it.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if I’m ever given the option.”

“So you really are like Hugo,” Nyima said as she finished up.

There was now a hole in the ground filled with clams. With a wave of her fingers, the sand spirit sifted through the sand and retrieved a large rock, which we would be able to use to crack open the clams.

“Yes,” I said, still not sure how to process the information that Hugo had become the emperor of this island. He had always been a bit aggressive, but I never got the I’m-going-to-take-over-an-island vibe from him. It was good to know that he was alive, though.

“And I’m assuming there are other outsiders who have come to this world,” Nyima said. “According to legend, they usually come in groups of five.”

“That’s right,” I told her as Saruul crouched in front of the hole full of clams. She picked the first one out, and eyed it suspiciously.

A serene look spread across Nyima’s face. “It will be interesting to see what becomes of the new Immortals.”

“First they are calling him a Golden One, now a new Immortal?” Roger shook his head. “It’s all going to go to your head, isn’t it?”

“I think it would have by now,” I told him.

“He seems humble enough to me,” Nyima said. “Nothing like Emperor Hugo.”

“I’ve known Hugo since I was a kid,” I told her, coming to his defense. “He can be a little wild, but he was always a good man. A good soldier, just with a bit of a mean streak. But a playful mean, if that makes sense.”

The sand spirit considered this for a moment. “Coming to a new world can do strange things to you, I suppose. I was once the daughter of a wealthy landowner in Anand. While I never did anything to hurt anyone, I also never helped anyone, and I was in a position in which I could have helped a lot of people. Toward the end of my life, I became covetous, doing whatever I could do to get my hands on relics and other items that would allow me to live longer, to become beautiful again. I ended up killing for one of those items, well, not me specifically, but someone I hired. Upon my own death, I was sent to the Underworld, and after a couple hundred years of being there, I was allowed to return here to redeem myself. I am well aware that going to a new world can change you. It has changed me, going there and then coming back here as this… thing.”

She lifted one of her arms, sand falling from it, a few of the grains picked up by the wind.

“Why are you at this beach anyway?” Saruul cracked one of the clams against the rock, investigating it with her nose once the shell popped open.

“They don’t smell like anything,” Roger told her. “Well, maybe they smell like fish. Just eat it. Slurp it up.”

“We lion people don’t normally eat this type of seafood,” she said, still not sure about the clam. “It seems like some type of underwater insect, does it not?”

“It’s good eating,” Roger assured her. “Did you hear what Nick said? Clams are like some kind of delicacy that they use for something called chowder where he is from. And listen to the sound of that word, ‘chowder.’”

“A lot of people call it ‘chowda,’” I informed him.

He started laughing. “That sounds like a name for a bastard snow lion with a heart of gold but a skull full of hot air.”

“Watch it,” Saruul said as she set down the clamshell she had cracked open and went for another one.

“I guess it’s a better name than Champa…”

Saruul smirked. “Perhaps.” She returned her attention to the clam, still deciding if she was going to eat it or not. “My apologies, Nyima. You were saying?”

“I guard this beach because there is a relic hidden in the sand far beneath it,” she said, motioning toward the beach, “something that is similar to your sword.”

“Really?” Roger asked. “It turns to fire?”

“No, not like that, I mean it is magical.”

“Now you’re talking,” Roger told her with a grin as he rubbed his wings together. “And what do we have to do to go about getting this relic? We aren’t practitioners of the Path of Possession; we’re practitioners of the Path of Get-Anything-We-Can-To-Help-Us-Beat-Our-Next-Enemy, if you get my drift. ”

She tilted her head in Roger's direction. “You would like the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers?”

The bird landed next to Saruul. He ripped the meat out of the first clam, swallowing it down. “I’m saying, let’s make a deal.”

Nyima considered what he said for a moment. “I suppose there would be no reason to keep it from you, as you’ve already shown me mercy, and it may prove useful to your cause. Perhaps the karma I would reap in helping an Immortal would expedite a rebirth for me. But I don’t want to assume that.”

“Crack that one,” Roger told Saruul quietly. “Yes, that one. It’s the biggest.”

“Roger, listen to her,” Saruul said under her breath.

“Seeing Nick look so famished has sparked an incredible hunger in me,” he said.

I took over the conversation, not wanting Nyima to think Roger was being rude to her. “We didn’t come here for the Cooling Fan,” I told the sand spirit. “We just happened to show up on this shore; you know that.”

“I’m aware; however, the fan is something that could come in handy to you,” she said. “But you must know by now that I can’t just give it away. I would need you to do something for me.”

“What does the fan do?” Saruul asked.

“It creates wind,” she said.

Roger laughed. “I know a bird who can do that.”

“Would you like to see it in action?”

I looked to Saruul, and then back to Nyima. “Sure, show us.”

“Just give me a moment,” she said as her form began to melt into the beach.

“Where did she go?” Roger asked, looking up from the next clamshell that had been cracked open. “Also, Nick, you are going to want to get in on this action. I mean, they could use some seasoning, sure, but these little guys are mighty tasty.”

“There are plenty,” I told him.

“Not if she keeps cracking them and I keep eating them,” he said as the sand began to reform back into the body of a woman with the tail of a snake.

Nyima now held a golden collapsible hand fan. As she opened it, I noticed that there were images of colorful birds stitched into the fabric of the fan.

“I haven’t played with it in ages,” she said as she turned away from us, toward the sea.

With a flick of her hand the wind began to pick up, cutting a ripple through the waves. She moved the fan even faster, and as she did so a line started to part in the water, wind swirling all around, the sand now filling the air.

“Yep, we need that fan,” Roger said as she lowered the fan, a piece of clam still hanging out of the side of his beak.

“I believe it will help you,” Nyima told us. “But I would need you to do something for me before I gave it to you. My family’s crypt is in Anand; I’m not able to visit it. I would like to know that it is well taken care of, and I believe, if the discussions I had with my family before I passed turn out to be the case, that there is a small wooden box in there that belongs to me. I know that I shouldn’t desire this object, but it was precisely the object that I killed for, and I would like to be the one that disposes of it. If that makes any sense.”

“So you hired an assassin to kill someone for this box, and now you want it back so you can officially destroy, right?” Roger asked.

Nyima nodded, and as she did so she slipped the fan into her body, the sand moving all around her and covering it up. “It was what was in the box that I was after. The box was made by my grandfather, and it once housed a bone hairclip. I’m sure that’s no longer there, but I would like the box.”

“You killed for a hairclip?” Roger asked.

“I did, that’s how sick I was. Anyway, I will take you there tomorrow. It shouldn’t be a very long walk. If we leave by sunrise, we will be in Anand before sunset. All I ask is that you bring me this box, back to the beach where I drop you off. Do that, and the Cooling Fan is yours.”

“And while we’re in Anand, we can check with the monastery to see if they have heard anything about Lhandon,” I added. “If he shows up anywhere on this island, my guess is that it will be at a monastery. I’m going to assume that he would think that’s where we would look for him as well.”

“Make sense. I’m sure they have some type of carrier pigeon, well, not pigeons because we’re on a tropical island. Are there pigeons here?” Roger asked Nyima.

“No, but the monasteries and cities here do communicate through seagulls.”

Roger snorted. “God, you people must be desperate. Anyway, I’ve already said my piece about seagulls. Fine. For some reason, they are useful here. If that’s how they do it here, then so be it. Saruul, could you crack another one? Roger is still hungry.”

“Please don’t start referring to yourself by your own name,” she said with a frown.

“Sorry, it’s something I do when I’m hungry.”

“If Lhandon’s in another city, which we suspect he is, what would be the best way for us to get there?” I asked Nyima. “I mean, are there horses, something like that?”

“The fastest way would be to get there by boat.”

“No boats for the time being,” Saruul said as she swallowed her first clam. She considered it for a moment and made a disgusted face.

“I assume that your friend would have made it to the Port of Sor, and since he is a foreigner, they would probably send him to be registered in Ganbold, which is along the bay. The waters there aren’t too tumultuous, and it is accessible from Anand. Unfortunately, there aren’t horses here, but if it helps you to conceptualize the island, it is shaped like a horseshoe.”

Roger shook his head. “It really feels like someone is missing out on a marketing opportunity here.”

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“A horseshoe-shaped island without horses on it? That’s pure genius…”

“We get plenty of tourists from the other kingdoms, and horses don’t fare well here. They don’t like the jungle, nor the snakes. It’s easier to travel by boat.”

“So if the island is shaped like a horseshoe, which side are we on?” I asked.

“If you’re looking down at the horseshoe, we would be on the left prong, which is where you will find the city of Anand. Ganbold is in the middle of the horseshoe, the side that would naturally have a bay associated with it. The Port of Sor is across from Ganbold, facing Sarpang. The Port of Sor is about a day’s journey from Ganbold as long as the underbrush and the jungle hasn’t grown over. On the other prong of the horseshoe you will find Zol. Right now, because of Emperor Hugo, it may be safer for you in one of the outer cities. At least until you understand the laws better and have a few connections.”

“Okay,” I said, finally sitting down with Saruul and Roger to start working on the clams. “Let’s rest here tonight. We will head to Anand tomorrow, and from there we will visit the local monastery and see about your family’s crypt.”

“It’s going to be a busy day, isn’t it?” Roger asked with a yawn.

“Yes, I do believe it is,” I told him.

“As long as we don’t have to look at a boat for the next few days, I’m good,” Saruul said. “I can’t swim.”

“Yes, you can,” Roger told her. “I just watched you swim today for several hours.”

“Let me rephrase that: I don’t want to swim. I would rather go through the jungle.”

Nyima nodded. “It is more dangerous to go through the jungle, but in doing so you will draw less attention to your cause. You do have a cause, don’t you?”

“Actually, yes,” I told her as I picked up a wet clam. “We came here to find Hugo and to seek out a reincarnated monk. It looks like we are to have our first answer, and we will need to find Lhandon to get our second.”

“You intend to meet with Emperor Hugo?” she asked me.

“I do. Like I said, he’s an old friend of mine.”

I sat by the shoreline, my legs crossed beneath me, my right hand cupped in my left.

I imagined myself breathing all the way to the back of my skull, my breath coming through a tunnel.

I had already done fifty or sixty prostrations and figured now would be as good a time as any to not only meditate, but also practice turning my time power off and on.

The moon reflecting off the waves gave me something to stare at every time I opened my eyes to see if my power had actually worked.

As it had before, activating my ability triggered a headache, especially after I had turned it on and off three or four times.

Still, it was progress, and I spent the remainder of my meditation thinking about my time here in this world, and the enemies we’d made.

While it felt like we were far away, I knew that Sona and Evan would catch up to us at some point. Perhaps it would be here in the Island Kingdom, or once we got back to Lhasa.

There really was no telling at this point, but they had certainly made it to Sarpang, where they’d see what happened to Gomchen, the evil monk.

It would be a hell of a battle when it finally went down, and the best option would be for me to stop time and kill them both swiftly.

I could then turn my focus to whatever guards they brought with them.

I knew that there was a lot going on in Lhasa, and that there was still the war between the Madames over resources in the Cultivation Hills. I didn’t know what had become of Nagchu, or Madame Mabel’s plantation, but I assumed there were issues there as well.

I also wondered what power Hugo had.

If he had already become emperor of a kingdom, I assumed he had some incredible new ability. And it wouldn’t be long until I found out firsthand what that ability was.

I was able to end my meditation peacefully, my thoughts settled in at the far corner of my mind, a calmness coming over me.

Once I was finished, I made my way over to Saruul, who had morphed into her lion form and was lying on her side.

I laid down next to her, placing my arm around her. She turned her head to me and licked my face, her sandpaper tongue rough against my skin.

“I think I had too many clams,” Roger groaned. The bird was splayed out, his wings wide, his belly distended.

“I told you not to eat so many,” Nyima whispered to him.

“They were so goddamn good, though,” he said. “You have the best clams, Nyima.”

She chuckled. “Why does the way you’re saying that make me feel uncomfortable?”

Roger tried to laugh but ended up groaning instead.

I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face. When I woke I noticed that the water was closer to us now, Nyima still watching over us.

“Morning,” I told her as I sat up. Saruul started to wake up as well, and as she did she morphed back into her human form.

“Sometimes it’s easier to sleep in that form,” she explained, one of her ears twitching.

“Actually, it was a little breezy last night; I’m glad I was next to you.”

“Stealing my warmth?”

“Is that bad karma?” I asked.

I looked to my left to see that Roger was still asleep on his back, one wing over his stomach now.

“We should go now,” Nyima said, “especially if we hope to reach Anand before sunset.”

By this point, my robes were dry, and after I put them on I buckled my belt, my sword sheathed at my side. I woke Roger, who grumbled at first, but eventually hopped onto my shoulder.

As we walked, Roger fell asleep again, at one point faceplanting into the sand. This seemed to wake him up enough to actually fly, which he did for the next several hours before getting tired again and riding on my shoulder.

It seemed like we were just walking along the beach forever, but eventually the amount of sand started to diminish, replaced by flora and tropical trees.

I didn’t have much experience with tropical environments, New England isn’t known for its palm trees. It was odd seeing the lushness of the encroaching jungle, the insects, flowers, and other plants sometimes twice my height. There was also the fruit that came with it, Saruul, Roger and I sharing juicy berries and mangoes that Nyima pointed out to us.

The sugar from the fruit definitely gave me a boost, and walking on solid land was better than walking closer to the beach, my calves throbbing from walking on the sand.

What would have been a peaceful trip quickly changed to something else entirely when we came to a body that had been tied to a palm tree. The man’s head had been penned in a cage, leaving the rest of his body to be picked over by animals.

“Disgusting,” Nyima said, hanging her head in shame.

“Is this some kind of torture?” I asked. “No, torture isn’t necessarily designed to kill. This…”

“No, it’s not torture,” Nyima said as we looked at the body.

A few chunks of the thigh were still bloated, discolored, flies and maggots crawling over what was left of the internal organs. The insects had gotten into the person’s face as well, eating their eyes, their larvae visible in the body’s open mouth.

“How utterly barbaric,” Saruul finally said, holding her head up high, as if she was trying to stop from breathing through her nose.

“Let’s continue,” Roger said, a seriousness to the way he spoke that I hadn’t heard from him recently.

We made our way deeper into the jungle, eventually coming back to another beach, Nyima’s form growing in size as grains of sand cascaded up her body. We kept on the beach for another hour or two, all of us mostly silent, focused on just getting there.

Eventually, we reached a path that led through a dense bit of jungle, my eyes immediately jumping to bodies that had been tied to the trees lining the path.

“Jesus,” I said, ignoring the inquisitive look Saruul gave me as to what that word could possibly mean.

There were ten bodies, each tied to the trunk of a tree, each in various states of decay with cages around their heads.

“Gah!” Roger said. “And what kind of animal eats from these bodies anyway? Clearly not an educated one. This has bad karma written all over it.”

“No, this has Emperor Hugo written all over it,” Nyima said.

“You really think he’s responsible for this?”

She nodded at me. “From what I’ve gathered, Emperor Hugo has taken it upon himself to personally eliminate any enemies he may have in the kingdom. This is one of the ways he is doing it. I saw something similar near the beach I protected.”

“Do you think any of them are alive?” Roger asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” I said as I approached the trail of bodies.

Movement in the trees caught my attention, my hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt. I glanced up to see an orange monkey with a blue face moving from limb to limb. Hanging from the monkey's lips was a strip of flesh.

“Well, the monkeys here are fucked in the head, but we already knew that,” Roger commented.

I came to the first set of bodies, noticing that they clearly weren’t breathing.

The next two were dead, as were the two after that. It was when I came to the last row that I saw one of the bodies twitch.

It was a young woman with feathery hair, her nude body covered in scratches and black marks. I instinctively traced my Healing Hand ability.

“Hey,” I called to the others, who were still at the start of the tied bodies. Once Saruul joined me, I placed my hand on the woman’s elbow.

The blemishes on her skin started to soften.

She gasped; her eyes fluttered open she started to scream, trying to free herself from the tree, her head rattling in the cage.

“Relax, relax,” I told her, a lump in my throat as I looked her over, as I felt her pain.

“Please, please, no,” she mumbled, her voice just above a whisper. A centipede easily the size of a hot dog crawled down the back of her neck, dropping onto her breasts.

Roger flew forward and picked the centipede off with his beak. He landed in a branch near the woman and smashed the centipede against the tree trunk, killing it instantly.

“We have to get this cage off,” I said once the woman was healed.

“Please…” she whispered again.

I looked at how it was bolted to the tree, trying to figure out where it was locked. It was almost as if the cage had been welded shut.

An idea came to me.

“I want you to hold still,” I told her. “This is going to hurt, but I’ll be able to heal you after.”

I motioned Saruul to the ropes pinning the woman to the tree trunk; she quickly stripped them away. As she did so, I checked the head cage once again to see if there was any locking mechanism on it.

When I couldn’t find it, I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, separating the cage from the tree trunk, the smell of hot metal and burning wood meeting my nose.

The woman stumbled down onto her knees, bowing her caged head before me.

Now looking at the cage from the back, I saw that it was locked in a place where a person wouldn’t be able to fiddle with it even if they tried.

I brought my blade against it, and as I did the woman cried out, the heat reaching the back of her head, the smell of burning hair reaching my nostrils.

The cage fell open and I immediately sheathed my blade, dropping to the woman and healing her again.

“You’re okay,” I told her as I helped her stand.

“My whole family…” she said, looking at the people pinned to the trees with terror-filled eyes. “I’ve brought them dishonor by living!”

“Don’t start that up,” I told her. “Tell me exactly what happened, how your family ended up here.”

“My father was on the board of governors for the city of Anand. He disagreed with…” She stopped speaking and looked at me. “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” I said.

“And you have a lion woman with you, a bird…”

“And a sand spirit,” Roger said, the woman looking up at him with confusion on her face.

“You can’t understand him?” I asked her.

She shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t matter who we are. Who did your father disagree with?”

“Emperor Hugo,” she said, her throat quivering. “My father disagreed with the way that he was handling those who spoke ill of him.”

Roger landed on my shoulder. “Damn, Nick, this guy sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Do you have somewhere to go?” I asked her.

“I…” The woman started to cry. “If they see me, they will capture me and kill me for good this time. They will also kill whoever I go to. I have been marked. They know who I am. Everyone around here knows who I am. I…”

A bewildered look came over her face. The woman looked to the cage I’d just melted open, noticing that a portion of it was sharp enough to cut through flesh.

Before I could react, she dropped down to a crouch, grabbed it, and slit her own throat.

“What the hell!?” Roger shouted, flapping over to her.

I kneeled down beside her, hoping to be able to heal the woman, only realizing once nothing happened that my power had left me for the day.

“Kill me…” she whimpered, blood bubbling out of her neck. “Please…”

I look to Saruul, and then to Roger.

“One minute she asks you to save her, the next minute she asks you to kill her. I don’t want anything to do with this karma,” he said, rising back into the air.

“I believe it is best if we let her die,” Nyima said firmly. The sand spirit had been quiet in all of this, but now it appeared as if she was ready to act. “I’ll take care of it.”

The nude woman began to sink into the soil, the ground quaking as Nyima completely buried her.

“What just happened?” I asked Saruul, my heart beating in my chest now, confusion making me feel panic.

The snow lioness shook her head, a disturbed look on her face. “I do not like it here, Nick.”

“It’s an honor thing, isn’t it?” Roger asked, the bird landing on the ground again. “Shit, that’s right!”

“What do you mean?”

“Of course, I remember learning about it in…”

“Bird school?” I asked him.

“Yes, and not just any bird school, one of the…” He shook his head. “I guess those details don’t matter right now. My point is: honor is a big thing here in the Island Kingdom. I was forgetting about that. I mean they have entire rituals based around it.”

“He’s right,” Nyima said, her body slowly reforming. “Anyone in this position would want to be saved, but once you helped her, she realized that she was the only member of her family who would be left alive. Then she realized that anyone she went to for help would also be killed. So she killed herself. It was the only honorable thing to do.”

I ran my hand through my hair, still trying to process all this.

“Let’s continue,” Nyima said. “There should be one more beach ahead, and from there you will reach Anand.”

Chapter Four: The Golden Jewel

Just as Nyima had said, it took us from sunrise to sunset to reach Anand.

The glistening waves and a sandy beach to our left, Saruul, Roger, and I headed up a large set of sandstone stairs. I looked over my shoulder once again to see Nyima waving goodbye to us. She promised that she would remain in the same spot over the next several days, giving us plenty of time to take care of her request at the crypt.

I didn’t quite know when the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers would come in handy, but I wasn’t one to give up the offer of a mystical item, and getting it sounded relatively straightforward.

After witnessing people pinned to trees, and the woman killing herself, I wanted to make sure that we did not overlook any advantage we could possibly acquire. Being able to conjure wind was definitely worth a little side quest, even if we needed to get to Lhandon.

“So, the crypt first?” I asked as we made our way up the steps. They were recently swept, the corners soft and round from years of being walked upon and blasted by the ocean winds.

“Do ghost stories exist in your world?” Roger asked, who was perched on Saruul’s shoulder for once.

“Yes, why?”

“Think about it, Nick.”

Saruul nodded. “I see the bird’s point. It would be unwise to visit a crypt at night. There are spirits there, you know, and many of them prefer coming out at night.”

“Why is that exactly?”

“I think they just like taking naps,” Roger said, flapping over to my shoulder. “Because honestly, who doesn’t like taking a nap? You and your kind are convinced that you’re supposed to work all day, so who wouldn’t want to sleep during the day and hang out at night if they were given the option?”

“I thought that people just died and went straight to the Overworld or the Underworld,” I said.

“They can be rebirthed here too,” Roger reminded me. “And traditionally, ghosts haven’t figured out that they have died yet. I’m the wrong person to ask about this stuff though, birds don’t really have to deal with ghosts. You kill a bird, it dies. Plain and simple. Although I’m not certain if this applies to seagulls.”

“Or you,” I reminded him. “I seem to remember you coming back from the dead…”

He cackled. “Oldest trick in the book. I faked my death. Did I ever tell you about that, Saruul?”

“I feel like you told me about it a couple times now,” she said as we came to the top of the steps.

While it wasn’t visible from the beach below, our new perspective offered us a stunning view of the city of Anand, which appeared to be cut into sandstone and accented by tall palms and lush gardens. There was the squawk of seagulls in the air, monkeys moving about through some of the tropical foliage, and as the city moved up the hillside, waterfalls and fountains became increasingly present.

“Damn,” Roger said, running his wing over his head. “The sand spirit failed to tell me that this is one happening spot. Crap, we don’t have any money, do we?”

“Why do you need money?” Saruul asked.

“My fur vest seemed to work in Dornod; I figured I would get myself a new look while I was here. Maybe something a little more tropical. I mean, it’s worth a shot.” Roger took a quick look around, nodding to a man pushing a cart into an alley. He wore ragged shorts and a shirt that reminded me of a kurta. “Something like that. Have you seen anyone with a straw hat, yet? I feel like a straw hat would be appropriate on an island. I wonder what kind of chung they have here. Sorry, thinking out loud.”

“We don’t have any money, and if we did, we would need to use that money for food,” Saruul said.

“Nonsense, just go to the monastery. You’re planning on going there anyway, right?”

“After the crypt,” I told Roger.

“Nick, you seriously aren’t thinking straight. How many times do Saruul and I have to tell you that there are ghosts there, and neither of us wants to fuck around with ghosts? This should be a no-brainer. We aren’t going to the crypt at night.”

“Tomorrow,” Saruul told me as we approached the entrance of the city. She wrapped her hand in mine, her tail lightly tapping against my arm.

I glanced around to see homes with balconies facing the ocean, many of them with small yards filled with flora. The buildings had a burnt orange color to them, reminding me of the styling in New Mexico.

Gone was the hustle that I had grown used to in Dornod; the city had an eerie calm to it. No city guards either, and the only thing to indicate that there were even soldiers in the vicinity was a watchtower in a far corner of the city.

As we stepped onto a road made of a material that had the consistency of asphalt, I started to understand more about the layout of the city.

We were in a residential area, clear by the way the homes were built, no businesses in the vicinity aside from a vegetable stand set up in an alleyway. The woman running the stand resembled a lady I had seen back in Sarpang, with long feathers instead of actual human hair.

She made eye contact with us and bowed her head slightly.

“Let’s just keep going,” Saruul said as we started to make our way up the hill. We reached the top, many of the homes now decorated in flowering vines twisting around bamboo trellises. I could smell the flowers, a sweet almost berry-like scent.

Anand began to open up at this point, moving down a hill, the ocean visible on the other side and large ships in the distance sitting on a haze of pale blue. It was becoming increasingly clearer to me that we were on a peninsula, and that we had come to it from the backside. There were more people in the streets now, a mixture of men in beachwear and women with feathered hair.

A monkey ran across the street, its baby clutched under its arm. Saruul nearly collided with it and hissed, the monkey hissing back.

“I’m not going to rule that out as dinner,” Roger said, smirking over at Saruul. “Especially if we aren’t able to get some charity at the monastery. And that right there was definitely a two-for-one special, if you get my drift.”

“We aren’t eating the monkeys,” Saruul said.

“Why not? If we find a fat one…”

“We really should have some money, shouldn’t we?” she said as we passed a man selling grilled shrimp, which instantly had me licking my lips.

“If it’s money we need, I’ve got a plan for that.” Roger flew over to my shoulder and moved closer to my ear. “Find me a market; I’ll get us some cash.”

“No, we’re not doing it that way,” I told him. “At least not yet.”

“It will be my karma, not yours, Nick, so if you’re trying to keep yours squeaky clean, I got you.”

Saruul, who had been listening to us the entire time, stopped in the middle of the street and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you seriously talking about stealing from a market?”

“Roger is just trying to find a solution, that’s all.”

“What he said.”

“We will find the monastery, and we can go from there,” the lioness informed us. “They will provide shelter like they always do. We can offer to help out around the place too, if they need something.”

“Are you good with a hammer, Nick?” Roger asked me.

“Actually, I have been known to do some construction in the past…”

Roger laughed, nearly falling off my shoulder. “You sound like a real pro when you say it like that. Okay, let’s speed this up. It’s getting late, and we don’t want to be out on the street at night. We don’t know what this place is like. Hell, there could be a team of Champas rolling around.”

“Let’s see…” Saruul turned to a woman who was just about to step into a shop selling flowers. “Excuse me,” she called to the woman.

The woman stopped, fixed her posture, and turned to Saruul. Like the other women we had seen, she had feathers for hair.

“Yes?” she asked, not quite making eye contact with the lioness.  She was petite and a little bowlegged, yet she was still taller than Saruul.

“Would you be able to point us in the direction of the nearest temple? We don’t really know what there is in Anand, to be honest with you.”

“Are you tourists?” the woman asked Saruul, still not making eye contact. It was like she was watching something a few feet behind us. “Because if so, I am willing to help.”

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Roger asked.

The woman looked to the bird and giggled. “You have a tropical bird?”

“Can you understand him?” I asked.

She shook her head, and bowed again, avoiding eye contact with me. “But he is a cute bird.”

“Is the human calling me cute?” Roger asked. “Because if that is the case, and she clearly is somehow related to a bird with her bird hair and her big nose… Do you think she has a big nose? Or is it just me? Anyway, how do you think I should play this, Nick?”

“Don’t mind him,” Saruul told the woman.

“You can just point us in the right direction, and we’ll be on our way,” I said.

“Absolutely not. It won’t be a very far walk, just about twenty minutes from here.”

“Really, you don’t have to,” Saruul said.

The woman took a step back, shuffling her feet some. “It would be an honor,” she told us with a bow. “Please allow me to honor you as visitors to my hometown.”

“Hey, don’t argue with the lady. Let her honor us,” Roger told Saruul. He cleared his throat, and offered her what resembled a curtsy. “By all means, madame, please honor us.”

“Sure,” I translated for the woman. “If it isn’t too much to ask. And thank you.”

We came to a fairly large monastery with gleaming gold pagodas and a beautiful courtyard; the buildings surrounding it were white rather than the sandy orange color of the other buildings in Anand.

The courtyard was open, and as we stepped inside, I noticed that all the plants had been perfectly manicured, the space exceptionally tidy. The two fountains holding down the corners of the courtyard had mats before them, and there were a series of bells at the entrance, surrounded by flowerbeds filled with seashells and discarded oyster shells.

The monks wore saffron robes, and as one of them saw us, he quickly slipped into the monastery, presumably to get the head monk.

“Really, thank you,” I told the feather-haired woman who had led us here.

“I can stay if you would like,” she offered.

“No, that’s fine,” Saruul told her, Roger groaning from his perch on my shoulder.

“Every time I meet someone new, you guys make them leave.”

“When did that ever happen?” I asked him.

“The white birds in Dornod. Ring a bell?”

As if he had conjured it, a breeze coming from the ocean swept over the monastery, ringing a series of bells in the courtyard. The suddenness of the zephyr created a cacophonous sound that eventually settled into something that more resembled wind chimes, the breeze gone as quickly as it had started.

“I thought you didn’t like the white birds,” I told him as our guide bowed to us and slipped away.

“I had plenty of thinking time during our epic journey over the ocean.”

“It wasn’t that epic of a journey,” Saruul reminded him. “We were mostly stuck in the hold of a ship.”

“As I was saying, plenty of time to think, and I’ve decided not to kink shame those white birds. They seemed happy. No, I’ve changed my mind again. I think I will kink shame them. I don’t miss them at all.”

The door of the monastery slid open and the monk who had run inside stepped out. He was joined by a boy no older than ten years old, the younger monk in golden robes with a ring on each of his fingers. The boy monk wore several gold necklaces and his ears and nose were pierced, white and red lines painted across his forehead.

“Welcome,” he said with a smile.

“Hi,” I said as I approached.

I felt Saruul reach out for my hand; I looked over my shoulder at her to see that she was bowing her head.

I quickly did the same.

“Allow me to introduce Migmar the Golden Jewel,” the monk next to the boy said, bowing his head as he waved his palm in the boy monk’s direction.

“Why have you come here?” Migmar asked, a curious look on his face. “You do not look like the people from this island. You wear the robes of…”

The monk next to them bent forward and whispered something into the boy’s ear.

He nodded.

“You wear the clothing of someone who practices the Path of the Divine.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“And you are a lioness, are you not?” Migmar asked Saruul.

She nodded. “A snow lioness from the Darkhan Mountains in the Kingdom of Lhasa.”

“And you befriended a bird?”

“And not just any bird,” Roger quipped. “The smartest bird you’ve ever met, kid.”

Migmar smiled. “A funny bird, too.”

“He understands me,” Roger said, instinctively trying to slip under my robe.

“Behave,” I whispered to him.

“Why have you come here?” the older monk asked.

“Our ship was attacked by pirates, and later a sea dragon,” I explained. “We were separated from a friend of ours, a monk named Lhandon the Exalted One, and we were hoping that you would be able to send a seagull to the other cities to see if he has arrived there.”

“Certainly,” the boy said, nodding to the taller and older monk next to them. “Please send a seagull with a message for… what was his name again?”

“Lhandon the Exalted One,” I repeated.

“Yes, please send a message for Lhandon the Exalted One to the main monasteries of the island.”

“As you wish, Golden Jewel. I will also ask them to send word to the other temples.” The monk quickly stepped away. He reached the sliding front entrance to the monastery, where he was greeted by another monk.

The older monk returned, and once he did, Migmar spoke again. “That is quite the weapon you have,” he said, his eyes narrowing on the hilt of my sword. The boy licked his lips. “May I see it?”

“What does he mean by that exactly?” Roger whispered to me. “Does he want to touch the sword, or just see you spin it around?”

“I don’t know,” I said out of the corner of my mouth.

I began to unsheathe the weapon, and as I did the boy’s eyes lit up. “Marvelous! Marvelous!” he said as he clapped his hands.

“Please, do not return it to its scabbard,” the older monk said, hunger in his eyes.

“Um…”

“These guys are going to try to steal that fire sword,” Roger whispered to me. “You can tell by the way they’re looking at it.”

“Anyway,” I said, sheathing the blade and ignoring the older monk’s request. “That’s what it looks like.”

“I asked you…”

Migmar waived the older monk’s concern away. “I will handle this,” he told him firmly. “Does your weapon have a name?”

“Its name is You-Can’t-Have-It,” Roger said under his breath.

“Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom,” I said.

“Marvelous! I would like to touch it, if you don’t mind.”

“It will burn you,” I told the boy, not certain as to where this was going.

“No, not the blade, the hilt. Do you mind if I touch it?” Migmar asked as he came forward, now standing directly in front of me.

“I…”

I looked to Saruul and saw that she had brought her arms up slightly, ready to engage if need be.

“Sure,” I finally told him.

The boy monk placed his hand on the hilt of my weapon and gasped. “It’s so powerful,” he said, his lip quivering. He started to fall backward and as he did the older monk caught him and dragged him a few paces away from us.

“Are you all right, Golden Jewel? Speak to me!”

“So powerful…” Migmar said as he licked his lips.

“What in the actual fuck is going on here?” Roger whispered.

“Quiet,” Saruul said, still trying to better understand the situation.

“You must let me touch it again,” the young monk said, his shoulders trembling. “Not now; in the morning. It is too much for now.”

“All right,” I said, figuring I might as well ask. “Since I am unfamiliar with the Path of Possession, which I’m assuming you practice here based not only on the look of the monastery but the jewelry that you wear, please explain to me, to us, what it is you are doing.”

“Ah! Our apologies,” the older monk said as he helped the boy stand. He dusted off the boy’s robes, his jewelry clinking together as he did so. “He’s absorbing. Migmar the Golden Jewel is the leader of this monastery, the reincarnation of Chodron Chogyal the Diamond Absorber. The Golden Jewel is incredibly sensitive when it comes to these kinds of relics, able to physically feel and absorb their power. It is why he is our leader. We all hope to someday be as strong as him.”

“And you will be,” the boy said, regaining his composure. “I’m sorry, it’s just that sword is so strong. Never have I…” He shook his head.

“It is getting late,” the older monk said, taking over the conversation. “We have already eaten, but there is still food available, if you would like to have something.”

“Now we’re talking,” Roger said, patting his belly.

“That would be nice of you, thanks,” I told him.

“I will have some of the monks prepare a room for you. The three of you don’t mind sharing a room, do you? We can provide separate quarters as well, if the lioness would prefer that.”

“No, a single room is fine,” Saruul said.

The older monk nodded. “Good, we will meet again for breakfast; I will be able to answer any questions you have at that time. The seagulls will be flying out over the next hour. I expect it to take one or two days to get word from the other monasteries. I have but one request.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Please allow the Golden Jewel to touch the sword again in the morning,” he said, bowing graciously.

The young boy nodded excitedly. “And in the evening as well.”

“Sure,” I told him, trying to mask any hesitation in my voice.

I didn’t like the way they were looking at my weapon.

Chapter Five: Crypt Keepers

“No funny stuff while I’m awake,” Roger said.

The bird was sprawled out on a floor covered with dried fronds from a palm tree. We had eaten, and the seafood soup turned out to be quite delicious. Having already been poisoned by seafood once, I was extra careful this time around, allowing Saruul to sniff it and for Roger to voluntarily taste it, the tropical bird claiming he was more than ready to take one for the team.

But it turned out to be okay in the end, none of us sick or passing out only to awaken in a dungeon.

“I thought you were sleeping outside,” Saruul said in a teasing way. “There are other birds out there, you know.”

“And monkeys. Hell, I saw a couple monkeys on the roof of the monastery. They’re everywhere. Those things carry diseases, just so you know. Also, there are always birds outside. If you haven’t figured it out already, we’re sort of an invasive species, but don’t tell anyone I told you that. There’s a lot of heated debate about that topic in the bird community.”

“I’m sure there is,” the lioness said as she arranged a futon on the floor. She lowered down onto it and rolled to one side, making space for me.

“Besides, I feel like you two could use a chaperone. We don’t want a little half-tiger half-manchild-from-Massachusetts running around in Lhasa.”

“Tiger?” Saruul said, her shoulders tensing.

“Shit, I meant lioness. Don’t eat me. Nick, tell her not to eat me.”

“Go to sleep, Roger,” I told the bird as I laid down next to Saruul. “And try not to eat him, honey.”

Even though it wasn’t exactly comfortable, I placed my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom under the futon, between Saruul and me. Anyone trying to steal it would have a hell of a time doing so.

“So much walking today,” Saruul said, her voice growing softer. “And the temperature. I may start shedding.”

“Ha!”

“Last warning, Roger,” she hissed over to him.

I waited for a response from Roger, and when one didn’t come, I looked over to see him fake sleeping, one eye open and watching me. He winked; I couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Goodnight, Nick,” Saruul said, coming in for a kiss.

Our lips met and I felt a spark between us.

Since becoming stowaways, we really hadn’t had the opportunity to be intimate. I knew we’d have a chance at some point, or at least I hoped we would, but I could definitely feel the tension between us in that moment.

I turned away from her.

Maybe it was a good thing Roger was in the room to chaperone us.

I smiled at this thought, wishing I could share it with my bird friend.

As I started to drift off to sleep, I began replaying what I’d seen in the forest.

Had Hugo really ordered dissidents tied to trees to be eaten, their heads caged? I would need to ask the child monk about it, or at least his attendant. It wasn’t long before I was out cold, not waking until morning came.

It felt like I hadn’t even slept, that I’d simply closed my eyes and opened them, a soft glow to the room now that the sun was rising. Roger was already up, hopping around.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, trying to suppress a yawn.

“What’s it look like?”

“Exercising?”

“Hell no,” Roger said, stretching his wings. “And don’t you dare accuse me of doing something like that.”

“Then what?”

“Nick, have you ever seen a bird once they land on the ground?”

“Yes?”

“It’s too early,” Saruul said, yawning. She turned away from me, her tail grazing against my leg.

“Birds hop around when they’re on the ground. I don’t know why. It’s not like I can’t walk,” Roger said, strutting, “it’s just ingrained in my nature. At least that’s what it feels like.”

“So you’re hopping around because birds hop around?”

“You’re catching on!”

Once we were up, and my sword was sheathed to my belt, the three of us made our way to the dining area of the monastery, a room with golden accents in all the corners and famous pictures of saints hanging from the walls. I saw one with green skin, briefly reminding me of the story of Milarepa that Lhandon had told me, the monk who had survived on nettles for an extended period of time.

We found Migmar the Golden Jewel seated at the table with his attendant, more food in front of the two than I’d ever seen in a monastery. There were a variety of colorful fruits, from what looked like mini-bananas to prickly plums and flour-based snacks, biscuits to flatbread to rolls covered in sugary nuts. There was a half ham in the center of the table, the dish surrounded by sliced lemons, oranges, mussels, tiny sausages, and large shrimp.

“Welcome!” the boy monk’s attendant said. “And please, enjoy yourselves.”

He stood up and bowed, motioning us toward our seats. Saruul nodded then sat; I did the same, figuring it would be best to follow her lead.

“You will let me touch it after breakfast, won’t you?” Migmar asked.

Roger snorted. “I’m sorry,” he said, pretending to choke on something.

“Um, yes,” I told the young leader, still apprehensive about how forthright he was. He had allowed us to stay in his monastery overnight and no one had tried to poison us yet…

“Marvelous!” he said, clapping his hands together.

“The Golden Jewel enjoys the energy he receives from these sorts of objects,” his attendant reminded me. He was the same older man from the previous night, thin with a shaved head and the trademark monk ponytail, his with a couple jewels woven into it. “In his previous life, the Golden Jewel here was the strongest practitioner of the Path of Possession in the entire Middle Plane. He would have never admitted this at the time, but it has been said since, and I personally had the pleasure of serving the previous incarnation.”

“Good to know,” I said as Saruul went straight for the half ham. The lioness started cutting off slices for my plate, then hers, not waiting to eat. She also scooped some shrimp and mussels onto a plate for Roger, which he gladly enjoyed.

Taking her lead, I did the same, filling my plate with a little bit of everything and eating politely as Migmar and his attendant watched us with smiles on their faces. Once he was finished eating, Roger flew to his normal perch on my shoulder. I could tell he wanted to whisper something to me, but we were too close for the boy monk not to pick up what he was saying.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said as I finished a bite of ham, “what do you know about Emperor Hugo?”

The smile on the attendant’s face practically fell off into his lap, where it subsequently seeped to the floor and was dusted under the rug. “Why… why do you ask? Are you here from his administration?”

“What? No,” I said, waving his concern away. “I’ve already told you how we arrived here. Further, and I meant to mention this last night, we’ve been asked by a friend to visit her family’s crypt, so if you’d point us in the direction of the city’s graves after we eat, that would be very helpful.”

“But I want to touch the sword,” Migmar said, his nose curling.

“You will,” I told him. “But back to my original question: what do you know about Emperor Hugo?”

“He is a wonderful leader,” the attendant said, clearing his throat. “Brave and bold; clearly capable of running the Island Kingdom. He is also very powerful! Some say he is completely indestructible.”

“Indestructible?”

He nodded. “He is an outsider who simply showed up on our shores. He fought his way through the Moon Tournament and bested Emperor Minkoko, who hadn’t lost the tournament in twenty years! And what we have heard, and what we believe as we do not question our sources, is that Emperor Hugo has only grown stronger since taking his role.”

“What about the people tied to trees?” I asked, blunt enough that I heard Saruul make a noise with her throat.

“That’s how to do it,” Roger whispered. “Give ‘em hell!”

“That is what happens when you disobey the crown,” Migmar’s attendant said firmly. The boy monk glanced between Roger and me, a bored look on his face.

“We saw quite a few bodies on the way over here.”

He nodded. “And I’m afraid you will see more. You may even become one if you continue this line of questioning.”

“Come again?” I asked, lowering my hand to the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt. Migmar licked his lips, ready for me to brandish my weapon.

“Is that a threat?” Saruul asked.

“No, of course not! It is merely the truth,” the older monk assured us. “Any dissent is being met with instant punishment. This is not at our hands, heavens no! This is at the hands of the government. I’m merely telling you to be careful what you say and who you say it to. You are protected here at the monastery, for now, as the Golden Jewel’s guest, but as soon as you step outside our walls, there is absolutely nothing we can do. So consider it a warning.”

“Duly noted,” I said, placing my hand back on the table.

“Now, to change topics, yes, we aren’t far from Anand’s crypts, and I can certainly point you in the right direction,” the attendant told me, a thin smile returning to his face. “That is, after you allow the Golden One to see the Flaming Thunderbolt again…”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Also, we should start hearing from the other monasteries sometime tonight or tomorrow morning. Hopefully, we will have word on Lhandon the Exalted One by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I don’t like it,” Roger chirped after we were a block or two away from the monastery. We were coming up to a garden on our left decorated with dozens of blooming lilies, their petals blue with strips of yellow running through them.

Saruul took a deep breath in. “It’s fine, he only touched the sword.”

“Yeah, but the holy kid wants it. I can see that shit in his eyes.” Roger lifted off my shoulder and flew to the top of one of the palms in the garden. A blackbird with grapefruit-colored tail feathers squawked as it zipped away, clearly offended by Roger’s actions.

“Leave the birds alone,” Saruul said as we came to a narrow lane, the sides of the streets lined with sand-colored homes decorated with trellises covered in vines and lilies similar to the ones I’d seen in the public garden.

“Oh, come on,” Roger said as he rejoined us. “That bird had it coming.”

“Why?”

“He was spying on us.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, sort of a peeping bird. You guys didn’t see what he was doing up there in his little hideout.” Roger swooped in front of me, made a jacking off gesture, and returned to his flight.

“Impressive,” I told him as Saruul shook her head.

“The perv bird or the fact that I can fly with one wing while making that gesture?”

“Neither,” Saruul said, crossing her eyes at Roger.

We started down a hill, the sparkling ocean visible on the horizon.

The day was starting to warm up, a humidity setting in that made me wish I had a different set of robes. Luckily, it wasn’t a very long walk until we reached the cemetery with all the crypts, at least according to Migmar’s attendant who still hadn’t given us his name.

It was a solemn affair, as most cemeteries are, with gravestones at the front and statues and crypts at the back. The ground was covered in so many flowers that it was difficult to find a path to walk on, but we eventually found the steps, Saruul leading the way to the back of the cemetery.

“Aren’t you glad we didn’t come last night?” Roger asked.

“I’ve seen scarier cemeteries,” I told him as we circled around a statue of a woman bowing her head, two children at her feet. “You should see what they have in New England.”

“You mean Massachusetts?”

“Yeah, and the rest of New England.”

“You lost me there,” Roger said as he dropped to my shoulder.

“It should be up here,” Saruul said as we came to a row of crypts, some more elaborate than the others. I couldn’t read the names on any of them, but I recognized a few of the characters carved into the stone. A few had fresh wreaths of flowers laid over them. One had a candle on a corner of its stone base, wax pooling over the side, dried out flower petals stuck in the wax.

“I don’t remember Nyima saying which crypt it was,” Roger said. “If she did, I wasn’t listening.”

“She said it was the largest one,” I told him, pointing to a building the size of a single-story home with carved pillars outside covered in flowering vines.

“Easy enough,” he said as we came to a statue at the entrance of the crypt. The statue, which featured a woman covered in flowers and vines, was at least nine feet tall, the pedestal it stood on doubling as an entrance.

“Let’s tidy it up and see if we can find this box she was talking about,” Saruul said as she reached for the door.

I grabbed her wrist, startling the beautiful lioness.

“We have to be careful of traps, especially after what we encountered in the Great Plateau,” I told her.

“That was all Lhandon’s fault,” Roger said. “If it had been up to me, we would have never entered that crazy dead monk’s burial space.”

“What?” Saruul asked. “You never told me about this.”

“Right before we arrived in Sarpang, we came across a waterfall that had a fake burial site inside it. What was that monk’s name?”

“Drukpa Kunley,” Roger said. “See? I listen.”

“Anyway, it wasn’t actually his burial site; it was a fake one set up to be a trap.”

“Why would a monk do that?”

“He was a nalropa,” I said, almost surprised I’d gotten the term right. “A divine madman. According to Lhandon, he had some pretty powerful relics, and to hide his real burial site, he placed a bunch of decoys across Lhasa. Anyway, I’m just saying to be careful.”

“It’ll be fine,” Saruul said as she pulled the stone door open. It slid open relatively easily, revealing a stairwell leading down.

“Creepy…”

“We’ll make this quick,” I told Roger.

As I began my descent, I wished that I had the rune that Lhandon often used to illuminate dark places. Then I remembered I had a fire sword, which I brandished, Roger flying back for a moment when I startled him.

“Makes sense,” he said again as he landed on my shoulder, “but warn me next time.”

There were spiderwebs in all the corners of the stairwell, which I immediately started clearing out with my sword. I reached the bottom and looked up to see that Saruul was gone.

“Hey,” I started to call up to her.

“I’m here,” the lioness said as she reappeared with an arm full of palm fronds. She held them by their ends, giving her something to sweep away cobwebs and dust with. “How is it down there?”

“Cold.” I turned back to the crypt to see four coffins facing each other.

I would have thought nothing of it had I not seen that one of the coffins was opened. It dawned on me at that moment that getting down here was far too easy, that it felt like there should have been some type of obstacle or something to prevent thieves from robbing the grave.

“Great,” Saruul said as she reached the bottom, clearing away more cobwebs. “There’s a missing corpse.”

“No, there isn’t!” Roger said with a shriek.

A skeletal guard carrying a shield and a scimitar stepped into the light provided by my sword.

“We were sent by Nyima,” I said, trying to reason with the skeleton.

He tilted his head at me, and as he did, dust fell from the inside of his skull down through his ribcage.

“We’re friends,” I told him as I brought my hand to my side, casting Ma-Gyal, the rune that gave me the ability to absorb three strikes. The rune looked almost like the pi sign sitting over the number two.

“The door isn’t shutting or anything,” Roger said.

“We’re not running,” I told him.

“I mean, sure, let’s not run, but…”

The skeleton charged me; I was barely able to get my sword up in time. He pressed his weight forward, both of us vying to overtake the other before the skeleton pulled away, coming in for another strike.

Our weapons clinked together and I stumbled to the side. Damn, he had a lot of weight to his strikes considering he was nothing but bones. He managed to catch me with his next two attacks, my ability allowing me to absorb it completely.

I saw Saruul moving out of the corner of my eye; morphing as she did so.

I struck the skeleton with my Flaming Thunderbolt, the man-of-bones blocking my attack with his shield, the sound amplified in the crypt. Before he could get another hit in, I drove my fist into his shield, cracking the metal and kicking up dust.

Two more strikes like that would likely break it into several pieces.

This became my goal as I parried his next strike. I wasn’t able to avoid the skeleton’s shield connecting with my chin, sending me up and back. Saruul jumped out of the shadows and tackled him, running away again before he could swipe at her.

I was just getting to my feet when the skeleton ran at me, only to be distracted by Roger, who flew in his face and batted his wings at the skeleton.

“I’m taking a rib, Nick!”

“Do it!” I caught the skeleton’s next attack with my weapon, my flames accenting the angry shadows on his face. I kicked him away. Roger flew right at the skeleton, slamming into his chest and zipping to the left, a bone in his beak.

Saruul came out of the darkness and tackled the skeleton to the ground, focusing on his weapon this time, wagging her head as she got it out of his grip. He struck her with the shield, the lioness whimpering as she limped away.

“Fucker,” I said, gritting my teeth as I took off toward the skeleton.

I stopped myself just in time, remembering to focus, noticing the mental switch that allowed me to slow down time forming in front of me.

I triggered it, oxygen swelling into my lungs.

I saw Roger diving toward the skeleton, Saruul lurking in the shadows, a chain attached to the skeleton’s ankle.

A chain?

Following the chain, I noticed it was anchored to the inside of the open coffin.

Time sped back up, a headache coming on just as Roger smashed into the weaponless skeleton again, grabbing another rib.

I advanced toward the skeleton, but rather than strike him with my sword or my fist, I pivoted toward the chain. I brought my fist down onto the chain, and as I did so the links broke, the skeleton stumbling forward.

He turned to me.

I picked up the link chained to the coffin, showing him that he was free.

“What are you doing, Nick?” Roger asked, now hovering over my shoulder.

“I think he was imprisoned here,” I told him out of the corner of my mouth. “Maybe he just needed to be freed…”

The skeleton looked from the chain to the crypt’s exit. He then glanced at his sword, which gleamed in the light caused by my Flaming Thunderbolt. With a shrug, the skeleton approached his blade and picked it up.

He turned to the exit, slowly taking the stairs to the top.

Chapter Six: Island Hospitality

“I can confirm he’s gone,” Roger said once he returned down to the crypt. He landed on the edge of one of the stone coffins, hopping around as he spoke. “I don’t know where he’s headed exactly, but it appears as if he’ll be moving through the jungle rather than going to the city. Because that would be strange. Still missing a few ribs, though, courtesy of Yours Truly. You know, they say if a human is missing a few ribs that he should be able to…”

“That’s enough, Roger,” I said as I returned to the task of clearing away cobwebs.

“What were we supposed to find here anyway? Don’t tell me it was a skeleton, because if that’s the case, he’s long gone by this point.”

“A box,” Saruul reminded Roger.

“I can see four big boxes at the moment...”

“Those are coffins,” she said as she hopped up to a corner, swatting away cobwebs. A spider fell and Roger attacked it, killing the spider with a single snap of his beak. “Thanks.”

“I’d eat this if we hadn’t had such a wonderful breakfast back at the monastery,” Roger said as he tossed the spider aside. “I’ll admit, the child monk is a fucking creepster, but he knows how to entertain guests.”

“If I were a box, where would I be?” I asked aloud.

“You’d be in the skeleton’s coffin,” Roger said almost as an afterthought.

Saruul and I looked at each other.

We moved to the coffin at the same time, where I used the light coming off my Flaming Thunderbolt to make it easier to see what was inside. Saruul hesitated for a moment and then stuck her hand in, coming back out with a small wooden box sealed with a lock.

“Right again!” Roger said, doing a little flip.

“But before we leave, let’s clear out the spiderwebs at least,” I told them, desiring to honor Nyima’s request.

So that’s what we did.

It took us another thirty minutes or so to clear them all out, but by the time we left, the crypt was less spooky and much cleaner than it had been before.

Once we were out of the crypt, we used Roger’s eye-in-the-sky ability to figure out the best way to the coastline. Saruul and I stood at the front of the cemetery while he flew around, and as we waited, I rolled up the sleeves of my robes to cool off some.

“You need new robes, don’t you?”

“Maybe I’ll ask if they have a spare set at the monastery. These ones aren’t designed for this climate.”

Saruul pressed up next to me, my hand naturally coming around her waist.

“I wish we could get some alone time,” she said as Roger began to lower to us.

“Me, too.”

“Maybe an hour’s walk this way,” Roger said, doing a curl in the air toward the southwest. “I’m not great at judging distances on foot, but that would be my guess.”

We set off, Roger circling above us as Saruul and I spoke.

“Do you miss Dornod?”

“I miss the temperature,” she told me, “but this is interesting. I’m almost glad you got captured.”

I groaned. “Don’t say that…”

“You know what I mean. It sort of forced me on this journey, and so far, it has been a pretty outragious experience. The snow lion people rarely come down to sea level, and it really is giving me a perspective of just how different this world is.”

“It definitely is different,” I said as we came to a roadside stand. A woman stood behind a wooden table selling trinkets and assorted beverages, her hair feathered just like all the women in Anand.

“Care for something to drink?” she called out to us as she fanned herself with a couple fronds that had been stitched together.

“We’re fine,” Saruul told her.

The woman lowered her head as if she had been shamed.

We moved on, down a winding bend with shrub-sized palms covered in pink tulips with bright orange pistils. The smell hit me in the face almost immediately; it was pungent and sour, my eyes watering as we passed.

“That’s some flower,” I said.

“Why do you think I’m staying up here,” Roger called down to us.

After another fifteen minutes of walking, we came to trail that cut through a small patch of jungle. As we took the trail, I started to notice fresh bodies tied to the trees, seven in total, all of them still alive and all of them with their heads in cages pinned to the trees.

“Please,” one of them called out to me. The boy couldn’t have been older than fifteen, his nude body covered in lacerations, the ropes tied so tightly around his waist and shoulders that they had cut into his skin.

Roger landed on one of the cages, a woman whimpering as he did so.

“I should do something,” I started to say, ready to trace my Healing Hand power.

I felt Saruul grab my arm. “Remember what happened last time.”

I made my way to the front of the group, where everyone could see me. There were four males and three females of various ages, from young to old.

I cleared my throat and they all looked to me: “I can heal all of you and free your binds. If this is something you would like, please let me know by nodding your heads.”

I waited, and eventually the boy at the back nodded his head. He was then scolded by one of the older men to his right.

“It’s not your choice,” I told the man as I approached the boy, whose body was covered in bleeding lesions.

“No,” the boy said, sucking back tears, snot dripping from his nose. “Don’t do it. I changed my mind.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “You don’t have to listen to these people.”

“Remember your family,” the older man to his right hissed.

“No,” the boy said. “This is… this is what I’d prefer.”

I hesitated for a moment, my finger twitching to cast the rune that allowed me to heal.

Roger landed on my shoulder. “I know it’s fucked as fucked can be, Nick, but this is their culture. Remember what the lady said yesterday. She would be killed anyway.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth risking that than dying like this?”

“I don’t disagree there,” the bird told me. “But culture makes people do really stupid stuff. I know this isn’t a time to mention the white birds of Dornod, but they’re a great example of culture making people do really stupid stuff, including people like me.” He shuddered. “I’m not a person, I get that. But my point remains.”

“Come on, Nick,” Saruul said, taking my hand.

I was silent as we continued onward, a sinking feeling in my gut.

Roger tried to cheer me up with a story about a snapping turtle who bit someone in the ass, but it didn’t do the trick. We eventually found the same set of sandstone stairs we’d ascended the previous day, as we neared the bottom Nyima’s form began to take shape in the swirling sand.

“You didn’t say anything about a skeleton guarding the crypt,” Roger told her, shaking his wing at the sand spirit as if it were a fist.

“A skeleton?”

“Yes, chained to one of the coffins,” I said.

“And there were how many coffins?” Nyima asked, her brow furrowing, sending sand into the wind.

“Four,” Saruul said.

“Then…” she sighed. “I suppose my parents had our butler, Tenzo, buried with them to protect the crypt.”

“Buried alive?” I asked.

“That would appear to be the case,” she said. “I’m sorry if it sounds gruesome, but this is something that is done by wealthier families on the island.”

I bit my lip. The culture here was really starting to get under my skin. “Okay, well we retrieved your box.”

Saruul stepped forward with the box in her hand, a tendril of sand lifting off Nyima’s form. She took the box from her, and turned a spiral of sand into the lock, which forced the box open.

“Just what I was looking for,” she said as the box filtered into her form.

“Why this box exactly?” Roger asked.

“It was a family heirloom, made from the wood of a tree no longer on the island. My grandfather made it, back when he first started the business that would create my family’s wealth. I always cherished it as a girl.”

“And what was originally inside?” he asked.

“That doesn’t matter now, it’s gone. What’s beautiful is the box.”

Roger started to grumble as a calm smile took shape on Nyima’s face. “There are two things I’d like to give to you. The first is the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers, as promised.”

The fan began to take shape in one of her tendrils, and as she shifted it over to us, Saruul indicated that I should take it because of the pockets in my robes.

“Good call,” I told her as Nyima set the fan in my hands.

It was a gorgeous piece, brimming with energy. It was clear how it worked, but I figured I’d test it anyway. I opened the hand fan and turned in the opposite direction, giving it a single wave. A gust of wind appeared out of nowhere, startling Roger.

“That thing is strong!”

“And there’s one more thing,” Nyima told me as a new object began to spiral up her arm and into her hand. It was a folded piece of parchment, blackened around the edges. “I don’t know if relic hunting is something you’d like to do in the Island Kingdom, but this map will take you to an item that may be to your benefit. I found it in one of the pockets of a treasure hunter that tried to take the Cooling Fan. It may be worth checking out.”

I opened the piece of parchment and nodded as I looked at the map, Saruul joining me. “Good to know, and thank you,” I told the sand spirit.

“It has been my pleasure. Good luck with the rest of your journey, and if you ever come across the skeleton you freed, please tell him that I am at Sandstone Beach awaiting his service.”

“I wish you would blow them all away with your new fan,” Roger said as we came back to the monastery. The bird was referring to all the monks in the courtyard in their saffron robes, all of them on the ground, prostrating toward Migmar the Golden Jewel.

The boy was seated with a variety of items around him, from scepters to weapons, rags to books resting on swaths of orange velvet, all items that he was drawing energy from.

The young monk stood with his head thrown back, his mouth wide open, his hands shaking at his sides. He laughed maniacally, gasped for air and laughed again, completely oblivious to the fact that we had just come into the courtyard.

“Don’t you just love a cult?” Roger asked.

“As long as he leaves my fan and my sword alone, I don’t care what he does,” I said under my breath as Migmar’s older attendant swiftly made his way over to us. He bowed, Saruul doing the same.

“Did you find the crypt?” he asked, an excited look on his face, his breaths short as if he had been walking up a steep incline.

“We sure did,” I told him, wiping more sweat from my brow.

“We need to get you into new robes,” he said. “The days will be much more comfortable, less warm.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” I told him.

“Nonsense. Please, follow me,” he said, leading me toward the main prayer room.

Once we reached the entrance, he told Saruul and Roger to meet us in the dining area, that there would be refreshments available for them there.

He guided me to the monks’ quarters, and from there into a room that had freshly folded laundry in it, a crisp, floral scent in the air.

“This should do,” he said as he found a pair of robes the same color as his.

“You don’t happen to have a bag or anything, do you?” I asked him. “We will be leaving as soon as we get word from another monastery, and it would be helpful to be able to carry my robes with me.”

“You would like to keep the same robes?” he asked.

“Yes, I would like to keep them.”

“People are going to wonder why you are walking around in these robes without the haircut,” he said, running his hand over his recently shaved head. While they practiced a different path of the Way of the Immortals, all the monks, including their boy leader, still had the same haircut that Lhandon rocked, the fronts and sides bare, with a ponytail at the back. The only difference was the jewel that these monks had tying off their ponytails.

“I’m sure they are,” I told him. “But the haircut isn’t for me.”

“Are you not a practitioner of the Path of the Divine?”

“I don’t know what I am,” I told him with a grin.

“I only ask because it may arouse suspicion.”

“Walking around with a snow lioness and a tropical bird on my shoulder is probably even more suspicious.”

His right eye twitched as he looked me over. “I believe you are right in that regard.”

I took off my belt and placed my sword on the table, followed by the fan and the treasure map Nyima had given us.

I saw the attendant looked to them and back to me. “Did you pick up some new items today?”

“No. This is a fan that I’ve had for a while now, and a note from a friend in Lhasa,” I lied.

“Do you mind if I look at the fan?” he asked again with the nervous twitch at the corner of his eyes.

“I do.”

“Very well,” he said, stepping to the door. “I will wait for you out here. Also, there are shoulder bags in the basket at the back of the room. The monks use them when they go to collect clams. You may take one of those to carry your items.”

“Thanks.”

I finished taking off my robes and put on the lighter set, noticing instantly that the material was soft and cool.

“I’ve got to get out of this monastery,” I said under my breath as I returned my belt to my waist, my sword in its scabbard. I retrieved one of the bags that the attendant had offered me, and placed my robes in it.

The fan and the treasure map that Nyima had given me went in the inside pocket of my robes, where they would stay. I would have to sleep with the items under the futon as well, not at all trusting the monks or the young boy that ran the monastery.

Once I was done dressing, I met the attendant in the hallway, where I was led down a hallway with bamboo floors and yellow walls to the dining area to find Saruul and Roger having a heated discussion.

“It’s not like that,” Roger told her. “You lion people really should come down from the mountains and see for yourself. It’s not what you think.”

“Why come down there when we have everything we need in our village?”

“I don’t know? The same reason you came on this journey,” Roger said, hopping around on the table. “It’s important to experience things and go to new places, otherwise you risk becoming xenophobic assholes.”

“Did you learn that word in bird school?”

“Yes, and I believe it would apply to the people of your village.”

“You were only there a week!”

“And in that time I met a slew of sex-crazed white birds; Nick got beat to hell every night, and then there is the story of your old friend Champa. What’s the deal with that cat clown anyway? Why does he even care what you do?”

“We dated long ago,” she said, not seeing that I’d come into the room.

“There we go!” Roger said, clapping his wings together. “The truth finally comes out. You hear that, Nick?”

“Hey,” I told both of them, Saruul turning to me with surprise on her face.

“It was a long time ago,” she told me.

“I don’t care if you dated him.”

“We were in school; nothing ever happened between us.”

“I really don’t care,” I assured her.

“And he was different back then. He only became like that after he joined the village guard…”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said as I sat at the table.

“So that’s why he was so jealous,” Roger said. “You really should have lit his tail on fire, Nick, that would’ve been hilarious.”

“Roger…” I started to say.

“What? If I was dating some beautiful lioness, and a guy she once dated was coming around puffing his chest out and trying to be a big shot… well, you saw what I can do with a knife. I’m not saying I would murder his furry ass, but I’m not saying that I wouldn’t. I know, I know, there’s the karma angle I have to be wary of, but hear me out here: what is my karmic responsibility if someone accidentally kills themselves, eh? Ever think of that? What if they slip on a banana and fall onto an upward-facing knife?”

“What are you even talking about?” I told him as I shoveled some fruit onto my plate. Saruul filled my glass with coconut water, which went a long way in quenching my thirst. I set my glass down and she filled it up again.

“Nice robes,” she said to me, a soft smile taking shape on her face.

“Not my color, but I agree.”

“I’m just saying: if you are clever enough, and you figure out a way for someone to off themselves without you being liable, where does that put you on the karma spectrum? I know, I’m asking the wrong person. I should be asking Lhandon.”

“Please, don’t ask him that,” I said, smiling at the bird.

“It’s a valid question.”

“Ahem,” said the young monk’s attendant, who now stood at the front of the table with his hands behind his back. “Supper will be served in three hours. We would like for you to join us, and the Golden Jewel has asked to see your weapon again. Until that time, please rest in your room. Hopefully, we will have word by tomorrow afternoon about the Exalted One.”

“Hopefully,” Roger grumbled. “Although I could get used to all the snacks I have in this place. The weird cult stuff? Not so much. But the snacks? I will put up with it if I get snacks.”

“Such a stupid bird,” Saruul said playfully.

“I am the smartest bird you know!”

After refreshments, we retired to our room to find that the space had been cleaned, clean linens folded and stacked on a small end table. It was still warm outside, but the inner room of the monastery was cool enough that I thought about getting under one of the blankets.

Roger stopped antagonizing Saruul, the three of us able to rest until we were called for supper.

As I could have predicted, supper was an elaborate affair, an egregious amount of food placed on the table before us. I tried not to gorge myself, but it was hard with that much food present, and in the end, I definitely ended up going back for seconds and partial thirds.

Migmar ogled my Flaming Thunderbolt again, and after promising to let him see it in the morning, we were asked to retire to our room for the evening.

“Praise the gods,” Roger said once the three of us were alone in our room again. “Maybe that’s how the Path of Possession gets you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

“They give you all this good food, and eventually they lull you into thinking that simply touching an object will give you power. Shoot, I would believe anything right about now, and if you added some chung to the mix, I’d be going into a trance just like the boy monk did back in the courtyard.”

The bird hopped around with his head rolled back as if he were in a trance, Saruul laughing at him.

“It is an abundance of food, but there’s something I don’t like about it,” she finally said, “something that seems a bit odd to me.”

“Yeah?” I asked as we started to arrange the futon.

Saruul fluffed one of the pillows and placed it down, then did the same with the other one.

“It is just odd to see people pinned to trees, to know that there’s something terrible happening in the capital of this kingdom, and that the monasteries are being sheltered from it, as if there aren’t terrible things happening outside these walls. It seems very clever of your friend.”

“Yeah, it’s something,” I said.

“No, she’s right,” Roger said. The tropical bird was now lying on his back, his wings on his belly as he stared up at the paper lantern that hung from the ceiling, a candle lit inside. “It’s almost like your pal Hugo has either partnered with religious leaders, or he’s purposefully not going after them so they get behind him. Think about it, Nick. If you had a dash of devil to you, and you took over an unknown kingdom, what would be the best way to control the people? What already controls the people?”

“Religion…”

“Exactly. So you don’t go after the religious people, unless you are trying to bring a new religion. It doesn’t sound like Hugo is trying to bring a new religion, or whatever you guys practice in your world. He’s just trying to, well, I don’t know exactly what he’s trying to do, but my point is, he seems to be going after wealthy people and anyone who disagrees with him, sparing monks and monasteries. It makes sense if you think about it like that.”

“It makes too much sense,” Saruul said as she got down on her pillow. “Will you blow out the candle?”

“Sure,” I said as I brought the paper lantern down from the ceiling and took care of the flame.

I placed it in the corner of the room and slipped my sword, the treasure map, and the Cooling Fan under the futon.

My stomach grumbled, letting me know that I’d eaten too much.

“Sounds like the food is talking,” Roger said, his voice a bit drowsy now. “Before I crash out here, I just want to say that what your friend is doing is devious. If I wasn’t clear earlier. You could just meet with Lhandon, find the reincarnation, and get the hell out of here. But somehow, I don’t think that this is what you plan to do.”

“I don’t know what I plan to do yet,” I finally told him.

Sleep came over me, and it would have been a restful night as well had I not heard my own stomach grumbling. I woke up, and as I blinked my eyes open I caught someone hovering over me.

I pressed back, trying to get an angle to throw my fist out when I noticed that it was the boy monk, who apparently had the ability to float.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, startled.

Migmar sat in front of me with his legs crossed, about three feet above the ground. He had a crazy smile on his face, his eyes glowing white.

“Don’t even think about it,” I told him, Saruul waking.

She hissed, immediately rolling out of the bed and bringing her claws out, accidentally stepping on Roger’s tail feathers.

Roger squawked, coming awake.

“Seriously!?” Roger shrieked.

“You have something powerful,” the boy monk said. “Would you allow me to see it?”

“You can’t do this,” I told him, still on guard, realizing that from a seated position, it was going to be hard to throw a punch at the young monk.

“I don’t want your items; I merely want to touch them, to feel them,” he said, his words slurring slightly. “I can feel the energy radiating from them, and there are now two, are there not?”

“We can do this in the morning,” I told him.

“I know,” he said, color starting to return to his eyes. “I was just so curious.”

“We can show you in the morning,” Saruul said, relaxing some. “But please, never enter another guest’s room like this again, Golden Jewel. It is inconsiderate and inappropriate.”

“It is my monastery,” he said, a hint of confusion to his voice.

“Hold me back, Nick,” Roger started to say.

“I suppose I should tell you now: we have received word from Ganbold, the capital of our Island Kingdom. Lhandon the Exalted One is at the Temple of Ocean Sky there, and we have sent word back telling him that you will make the journey to the capital starting tomorrow.”

“So Lhandon is okay?” I asked, forgetting the sudden anger I was experiencing at seeing the boy hovering over us.

“Yes,” he said with a nod, “although the letter did not indicate his condition, receiving it tells me that he is okay. Now, do you mind if I see it?”

“I will show you both objects in the morning, before we leave. But not here, not like this. You have to learn to be patient,” I told him firmly. “We appreciate your hospitality, but this is no way to treat a guest.”

A frown started to form on his face.

“I know that you are used to getting your way, but you will be much stronger, more balanced even, if you learn how far your power extends. Does that make sense?”

He lowered to the ground, sulking a bit. “I guess so…”

“Please, get some rest, Golden Jewel,” Saruul said as she led the young monk to the door. “You will be able to see the items before we leave.”

“I… I understand,” he finally said. “Would you like us to arrange a boat?”

“No,” she told him. “We will be going via the jungle.”

The boy monk shrugged. “As you wish.”

He stepped out of the room, leaving all of us a bit riled.

“That little fucker,” Roger said under his breath. “I was just getting to the good part of a dream too, the climactic part, if you get my drift.”

It took the three of us another hour to fall back asleep, and by that time, the morning sun had already started to spread into the room.

So much for a restful night.

Chapter Seven: Welcome to the Jungle

We got out of the city of Anand just about as quickly as we could.

I kept expecting to catch Migmar’s monks following but they never came, and about an hour after we had put some distance between us and the monastery, I relaxed my guard a little. It was hot out, the jungle humid and filled with the sounds of insects and other tropical creatures.

“I think I prefer staying in Dornod over that place,” Roger said at some point.

“Oh, stop it,” Saruul told him.

“What? It’s true. Sure, you could argue that we really didn’t see much of the actual city back there, but still, aside from the ocean breeze and pretty flowers, Dornod just seemed cozier. Did anybody else think that was kind of weird?”

“That what was weird?” I asked him as I caught sight of a blue-faced monkey swinging from limb to limb, the creature suddenly startled by an orange snake with a bright yellow strip down its back.

Luckily, they were high enough in the canopy that I didn’t have to worry about the snake, but it did remind me that I needed to look out for these kinds of predators, that there could be anything lurking in the jungle of the island kingdom.

“If you ask me, I just felt like they wanted us to stay at the monastery, to not really explore. It was sort of like they were keeping us away from the rest of the city. That’s just the vibe I got.”

“They did let us go to the crypt,” Saruul reminded him.

“Oh great, we got to go to a shitty cemetery,” Roger scoffed. “Who wants to go to a cemetery aside from an undertaker?”

“I don’t think they were trying to stop us from exploring the city, but I do think they were watching us closely while we were at the monastery. And the Golden Jewel appearing in our room…” Saruul shook her head. “That could have been very deadly for him.”

“Do you think he was in there the night before?” I asked the snow lioness.

“Ha!” Roger laughed. He was flying for the time being, just a foot or two above our heads.

“I would have smelled him if he was.”

“You didn’t smell him the second time, how do we know that you would have smelled him the first time?” Roger asked.

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“Because you would have done something.”

She shrugged off his remark. “Even if they were a little odd, they did help us locate Lhandon.”

“The Temple of Ocean Sky,” I said, recalling the location they had given us.

“The Temple of Ocean Sky, huh?” Roger repeated. “Have you noticed that a lot of the temples have the name sky in them? Or is it just me?”

“We have only visited one temple,” I reminded him.

“What’s the difference between a temple and a monastery anyway? No one ever answered that one for me.”

“That would be a question for Lhandon,” I said as I switched the bag over my shoulder to the other side.

My brown robes were in the bag, as were a few provisions for our trip. The attendant back at the monastery had said it would take us up to two days to reach Ganbold, and that was only if we followed the “Path of Red” as he called it, which was marked by a tree painted red every hundred feet or so.

“I wonder what Lhandon is doing at the temple anyway,” Roger said. “Do you think he’s just hanging out with the other monks? Or perhaps he’s having a big debate about the various paths. Yeah, that sounds more like him. I hope they don’t feed him as much as these guys back there tried to feed us, otherwise, he may grow even larger. I’d prefer not having to roll him around.”

“Aren’t you ever quiet?” Saruul asked him.

“Birds like to talk a lot; is there a problem with that? Don’t lions like to talk?”

“We mostly try to keep to ourselves, unless we are drunk.”

“Or unless you’re in love,” Roger said in a teasing voice.

And so it went, the three of us heading deeper and deeper into the jungle, occasionally coming across a merchant going in the opposite direction. The merchants were always polite, bowing, and asking us if we would like to see their wares.

The young monk’s attendant had told us that there would be a roadside rest stop about a third of the way into our journey, that we should keep pressing on until we reached it. And to their credit, our hosts had also given us money, enough to rent a room and purchase any supplies we might need from the various rest stops along the way.

Even with their generosity, I couldn’t help but leave with a strange feeling in my gut.

Before departure, I had let Migmar hold my Flaming Thunderbolt, but I hadn’t let him hold the fan, only place his hand on it. It had been the right move in the end, especially after he swung my Flaming Thunderbolt, nearly cutting down his older attendant.

I could only imagine what he would have done with the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers.

Our journey continued, the day grew hotter, and Roger eventually fell silent.

It wasn’t a pleasant walk, but it was nicer than our trip through the Great Plateau, the scenery more beautiful and way less barren. Then again, there were also the ravenous mosquitoes, the clouds of gnats, colorful jumping spiders, pockets of cantankerous monkeys, and a variety of birds all of whom Roger felt the urge to comment on, and that was on top of the sweltering afternoon heat.

I was happy that the jungle floor was mostly covered in shade by the canopy above, but that didn’t stop the humidity, and I was feeling pretty ripe by the time we came to a large waterfall with a rope bridge crossing before it.

“It’s times like these that I’m glad I can fly,” Roger said as he lifted in the air, gliding to the other side.

“I don’t like it,” Saruul said. “I don’t like it one bit.”

“Then morph into a lion and run across,” I suggested.

She licked her lips, glancing from the waterfall to the river running below in judging the distance, a fine mist sitting over its surface. I noticed something slip into the water, its head peeking up a moment later.

A crocodile.

“Okay, maybe that’s the best idea.”

As she took a step forward she began to morph until she was in her lioness form. She paced for a moment at the foot of the bridge, and then backed up, stretching her hind legs in front of her, and then her back legs.

“Just do it already,” Roger called over to her.

The lioness took off, quickly making it across the bridge.

Ready to be done with it, I made my way to the bridge as well, clamping down on the rope that served as railing. As I took each step on the shaky bridge, an image took shape in my mind’s eye of a bridge not being able to support my weight, of me falling into the water below.

It never happened.

I made it, and once I did, Saruul came forward and hugged me.

“How cute is that?” Roger asked. “Now, let’s get going. I’m so sick of this jungle.”

“What do you like?” I asked him. “You always seem to be complaining about the locations we find ourselves in.”

“I prefer the jungle near Nagchu,” he said as we continued onward. “It’s a bit cooler and there are way fewer insects. You see all the insects here?”

I nodded.

“And who knows if they are poisonous or not. I guess I’m just more familiar with the jungle near my home. I’ll shut up.”

It was another couple hours before we reached the roadside rest stop that Migmar’s attendant had told us about.

It was much larger than I had imagined it would be, more of a resort in the middle of the jungle than a small roadside affair. Large walls surrounded the place, flowing vines draped over them, shrubbery and other assorted blooming plants arranged on the outer rim of the wall. Several men patrolled the front and back, long sticks resting on their shoulders, which I assumed they used to keep animals away.

Upon entering the courtyard, we found a covered seating area with plenty of tables, a canteen of sorts, the architectural style of the place similar to the sandstone buildings in Anand. A woman with feathered hair wearing a bikini top and loose flowing pants greeted us with a gracious bow.

“Welcome,” she said, motioning us toward a table.

We sat, and as we did another man came out holding a tray with a pitcher of water on it. The woman who had greeted us placed wooden cups on the table and the male attendant filled them, quickly exiting after a bow.

“And you will be staying for the evening?” she asked.

“That was the plan,” Roger told the woman.

She glanced between Roger and me.

“Yes,” I translated.

“We are expecting some of Emperor Hugo’s men tonight,” she said, her voice lowering. “They may be a little rowdy, if that is okay. We can place you in one of the rooms at the back of the furthest wing, but we can’t guarantee your safety, or the safety of…” She turned to Saruul.

“It would be very unwise of any of his soldiers to try anything with me,” the lioness said. “Incredibly unwise.”

The woman gulped. “Perhaps I can have dinner brought to your rooms, and you can keep your lights off and slip out early in the morning. Would you be opposed to that?”

“I don’t see why we are the ones that have to be quiet if we’re also paying customers,” Roger grumbled. He was now hopping along the table, the feathers on the back of his head standing to attention.

“That’s fine,” I told her, realizing it would be the most balanced way forward. I would be meeting Hugo soon; I would prefer not having to deal with his men too much beforehand. “We have no problem laying low for the night and eating in our room.”

“Thank you,” the woman said, offering us another bow, this one longer and even more gracious than the first. “Our chef will be sure to make your meal a memorable one. Please, finish your water, and once you are done, I will lead you to your room.”

Saruul and I finished our cups of water, Roger griping about how no one had placed a cup out for him. I filled up my cup, allowing him to drink from it.

“Not bad,” he said as I poured in more water from the pitcher. “There’s definitely a hint of coconut to it, but something else as well.”

“Cucumber, I believe,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

We were led to a room at the far end of the establishment, and by the way it was set up, I had a feeling that it doubled as a servant quarter when not used for guest overflow.

There was a single window providing a view of the jungle, and a large futon beneath it, about the size of a double bed. The walls were made of clay, and even though it was hot and humid outside, the room was cool. The color of the space was a bit jarring, a seafoam green that kind of made me cringe. Other than that it was quaint, with a low table in the far corner of the room with refreshments already on it.

“Please, eat, and once they arrive…”

“We will just stay in here,” I assured her. The female attendant bowed, and just before stepping out she reminded us that food would be coming later.

“Great, so not only is your friend an asshole, apparently the soldiers that follow him around are anuses as well. I’m telling you, Nick, something about all this seems fishy.” Roger landed on the table and began picking at some of the nuts that had been displayed on a long, rectangular tray. “Really fishy.”

“We’re being treated as second-class citizens,” Saruul added. “But if you think that is what needs to happen, I will agree to it. But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“This is going to come to a head, isn’t it?” I asked as I took a seat in front of the table, also going for some of the snacks.

“What else did you expect?” Roger asked.

“I have known Hugo for a long time, since middle school, if that means anything to you.”

“People change, Nick,” Roger said. “I already told you about my friend who liked the bigger birds. He wasn’t always a horny bastard. He used to be a good student, the top of our class. But then he got a taste of tail feather, if you get my drift. My point is: people change.”

“I get it, but perhaps there is more to the story. Maybe something else is working through him.”

“You think he is possessed?” Roger asked.

“I don’t know, I’m just saying we shouldn’t immediately jump to judgment. Look, as I have already told you before, Hugo is a Marine, or was a Marine. A Marine is a certain type of soldier in my world, one that is bred extra tough.”

“Is that according to them, or is that a thing people actually think?”

“Something people actually think,” I told Roger. “And probably according to them as well. But that’s not what matters. What matters is he went off to fight in a war and he came back a little bit different. If that makes any sense.”

“It makes sense to me,” Saruul said. “It has been a long time since the snow lions were in an actual war, but I do remember my mother telling me about her grandfather, and how he would wake up at night growling, covered in sweat, afraid that someone had done something to my grandmother. She said he was never the same after that.”

“From what I have experienced, some people do recover from it, depending on what they did while they were over there. Others do not. I don’t think that means anything aside from different people handle trauma differently, and that some are better at hiding how they are struggling with it than others. Maybe Hugo has taken things too far here, maybe this power he has been given has made him feel indestructible, in control. Then again, it could be something else entirely. And if that is the case…”

“You are totally going to have to fight him,” Roger said. “You might as well accept that. I’m not a fortune teller, Nick, but I definitely see that your future.”

“Fight Hugo?” I shook my head. “I was hoping to reason with him and ask him to join us, so we could slowly put our group back together.”

“Including Evan?”

“No, fuck that guy,” I told Roger with a grin. “But at least Bobby, Hugo, and me. Maybe we can figure out a little more about what’s going on here, and as crazy as it sounds, try to get to the bottom of why we came here in the first place and how to get back.”

Saruul looked away from me. “You plan to go back to your world?” she finally asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

We had been over this before; I still didn’t have a good answer for her.

I didn’t know if I wanted to go back to my world or not. There were things I missed, things like the Internet, and televised entertainment, and a drive along the Mohawk Trail with the windows down. There was my family, even though we weren’t that close, but there was also the city I lived in, Worcester, Massachusetts, and how I had grown to like the place, even if it was a little rough around the edges.

“I at least want the option available for my friends,” I finally told her.

“There’s another friend of yours too,” Roger said. “The one that went into the ocean.”

“Tom. All of us were at his bachelor party when the portal opened up and took us here,” I said, remembering that I’d been standing and giving a toast when it happened. “But who knows if he’s alive or not, and unless you have an idea, I don’t know how we would go about searching for him.”

Roger shrugged. “There are other kingdoms, you know. You have been to Lhasa, and now the Island Kingdom of Jonang. There’s still the Kingdom of Rinpunga, Paro and the other Island Kingdom, Tsirang. It’s a big world.”

“I really would like to see a map of it,” I admitted. “That’s one thing no one has quite shown me yet.”

“Well, if you give me some parchment, I can more or less draw what it looks like,” Roger told me. “I’m pretty sure Saruul could as well.”

“I don’t know much about the other kingdoms, just some of the legends,” she admitted. “It isn’t something that is commonly known in my village.”

“And do you see the problem with that?” Roger asked. “Where’s that piece of paper, the one with the treasure map on it?”

“There must be another piece of parchment we can use,” I told him, recalling that the treasure map was delicate.

“Good call. Let’s ask the attendant lady. I’m sure they have something we can write with, and a piece of parchment.”

“Sure, but let’s make it quick,” I told him as I went to the door. I walked down the hallway, Roger naturally landing on my shoulder as we passed an end table with a flower arrangement on it.

We came back to the courtyard to find the woman going over details with the other staff members.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“We were hoping to get something to write on,” I told her.

She turned to one of the male attendants and nodded him in the direction of what I assumed was the office, a building off to the side of the courtyard. He hurried over to it, and returned with ink, a quill, and parchment.

“Please, stay in your rooms,” she said as she gave them to us, and as if on cue, we heard some commotion at the front of the courtyard.

Soldiers clad in armor that looked like it had been made from bamboo started to file in, the woman ushering us away from the courtyard. We were in the hallway before any of them could get a really good look at us, but from what I could tell, the men were heavily armed, and there were a lot of them.

“Well, at least we have the parchment now,” Roger said as we rejoined Saruul.

“Okay, okay,” Roger landed on the table and hopped around, waiting for me to place the parchment down. Once I did, he used his beak to dip the quill in the ink and began tracing some forms. It took him a bit, but in the end, his map wasn’t half bad:

He spat the quill out. “That’s harder than it looks, and yes, I know it’s not perfect, but that’s not the point here. The bottom right continent is the kingdom of Lhasa, and that dot in the middle is Dornod,” he said, pointing to it with his beak. “That big island to the left of Lhasa is the Island Kingdom of Tsirang. The island to the northwest, the one shaped like a shitty horseshoe, is this island, Jonang. You’ll find the Kingdom of Paro across the Strait of Jargal, and to the west of Paro is the Kingdom of Rinpunga. I guess in showing you all of this I’m trying to say one thing: if your friend Tom is alive, he could be anywhere. Now it makes sense that he may have somehow drifted to the Island Kingdom of Tsirang, considering it is southwest of the Sea of Lhasa. Then again, it’s a big and crazy world. For all we know, he could be here.”

Chapter Eight: Sudden Departure

I was at Mechanics Hall in downtown Worcester, Massachusetts, in a hundred-year-old building, the stone masonry calling to an era that no longer existed. I was in the grand ballroom on the third floor, a space with a polished oak balcony and large portraits of presidents and local leaders holding court over the room.

I had picked up a gig as a waiter at the event, shuffling around with carefully arranged hors d’oeuvres on a gleaming silver tray, collecting people’s discarded beer bottles, their lipstick-stained wine glasses, and leftover food items. Two long tables filled with cheeses, expensive cuts of meat, olives, and other Mediterranean dishes meant to be finger foods held court on either side of the room.

It was around this point that I realized I was dreaming, that the man playing a piano on the stage and the enormous oil painting hanging above him were all figments of my imagination. I could no longer make out the details, could no longer figure out which president was depicted in the portrait.

I also couldn’t follow the music that was playing. Was it jazz? Something seasonal? A piano rendition of a top forty pop song? All I knew was that the man was playing, his head thrown back, a satisfied smile on his face.

A woman in a sparkling silver gown passed me, and I handed her my tray of hors d’oeuvres. She took the tray and continued onward as if it were nothing, as if our interaction hadn’t happened.

Realizing I was in control now, I took a seat in the middle of the floor, my legs crossed under my body. I closed my eyes as I settled my hands on my knees and took a deep breath in, breathing all the way to the back of my skull, letting the breath move down to my gut.

And while I knew my mind would wander, that there were innumerable things that could play out in my head while in a dream, I focused on my breath. Every time my mind started to move away I returned to my breathing, maintaining my focus.

The switch that activated my time ability appeared.

I acknowledged it, and moved on; there was no telling how long I would have meditated within my dream had I not been woken up by a loud thunk against the wall.

I blinked my eyes open, Saruul already up and in a crouching position.

Roger was asleep, the bird snoring lightly.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Saruul nodded to the door, one of her ears twitching in the moonlight.

“Something’s happening in the hallway?”

She confirmed my question with a nod.

“I’ll see what it is…”

I made my way to the door, Saruul right behind me. Pressing my ear to the surface gave me a strange, auditory hint at what was happening on the other side of the door.

I heard a woman’s whimper, the grunt of a man.

“I’m going out there,” I told Saruul.

“I know you are,” she whispered to me.

I pressed out of the door to find one of Hugo’s soldiers pinning a female attendant against the wall. He was kissing her neck, his pants down, the man jerking himself off.

The stink of alcohol hit my nostrils almost immediately.

“Pull your pants up, and get the fuck out of here,” I told him, the woman letting out a little yelp when she saw me.

“Stay right here,” the man growled to her as he lifted his pants, and turned to me. He crouched and retrieved a blade with a tassel on the end of it from his boot. The drunken soldier pointed the blade at the woman, reminding her to stay put.

As he took a step closer to me, I traced Gyal-Ma, the rune that allowed me to absorb three blows.

I could sense Saruul behind me; I knew the man didn’t have a chance.

He took a swipe at me and I narrowly avoided his fist, stepping to his right.

The time switch appeared before me and I mentally flicked it on, everything coming to a standstill. I brought my fist back, aiming it at the side of his head.

Time kicked back to its normal pace.

I punched him so hard that I shattered a portion of his skull and his jaw, a wave of force haloing around his head for a moment.

The man hit the ground, out cold, likely dead.

“No…” The female attendant said, starting to cower. “Look what you’ve done! Hugo’s guards...”

The soldier’s hand opened around the hilt of his blade, the man letting out his last breath. Both of us looked to it, the hotel clerk backing away.

“We need to go,” I told Saruul once I saw another soldier at the end of the hallway. The soldier just so happened to be coming around the corner, everything that had just happened registering on his face.

“Get Roger; get my sword…”

I heard Saruul move into the room, the soldier at the end of the hallway calling for backup as he drew his blade.

Several more soldiers joined him, all steeling themselves for the fight that lay ahead.

“Get behind me,” I told the hotel clerk as I reached into my robe, pulling out my Cooling Fan.

She did as instructed, the men charging me forward with their weapons drawn.

With a flick of my wrist, a sudden wind ripped into the hallway, strong enough that it tore the mirror off the wall, the piece shattering over the head of the first soldier. Anything else was torn from the floor, the men swept away, a few of them colliding with one another as they spun out.

One soldier twisted in the air as if there were no gravity before being hurtled backward, where he slapped into another man who had just come into the hallway.

“And I was just getting to a good part of my dream too...” Roger grumbled as he came to my shoulder. “Is that a knife on the ground?”

“No, it’s your knife,” I told him.

“Fuck yeah, it is!”

“Let’s go,” Saruul said, pressing past us. She tossed me my Flaming Thunderbolt and morphed into her snow lion form.

While Roger grabbed the knife from the ground, I quickly slipped it into my belt, my fan already up in the pocket of my robe.

I brought my sword to the ready and followed Saruul down the hallway, the snow lion trampling over the bodies of the men who’d been knocked over by my wind attack. Most of them weren’t too keen on seeing a large lion in their vicinity, only one man standing to fight back.

For his troubles he received a swipe to the face from Saruul, the lioness coming in for another swat. I reached her just as another man tried to grab my leg. I brought my sword down into his throat and pulled out quickly, the wound cauterized, the man’s eyes wide for a moment before they rolled back.

We took a right, and as more soldiers appeared, Roger flew forward with his blade and jammed it into one of the soldier’s eyes.

Perhaps they would have been more worthy opponents, but all of the soldiers seemed inebriated, the swings of their swords not as precise as they should be, a couple of them not even wearing any armor.

Saruul and I fought through the ranks, and the only blow to reach me was a strike from a man two heads taller than me, my ability allowing me to absorb his attack. I returned fire with a fist straight to his rib cage, the man letting out a garbled noise as I drove my sword deep into his stomach.

I heard a roar as Saruul took down another of Hugo’s soldiers, immediately going for his jugular and tearing it to shreds.

“Holy shit!” Roger said as he flew past again, this time aimed at a skinnier soldier who was wielding a large scimitar.

The man tried to swat his blade at Roger; the tropical bird spun in the air to avoid it. The man was so distracted by Roger that he didn’t see me come up behind them, where I cracked him in the back of the head with the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt.

There were a few other soldiers coming from the other side of the hallway now, but most were keeping back, already seeing the damage that was done.

“I think this is our cue to get out of here,” I called to Saruul, who just taken down another soldier. She looked up at me, her maw covered in crimson. She began to morph, and as she did the blood remained on her face.

After a quick look around, Saruul saw that one of the soldiers had come out of his room with a towel in his hand. She wiped her face, her cheeks still slightly red. “Ready.”

A double door kicked open and soldiers spilled in, but rather than run toward us, they took off in the opposite direction, chased by the same skeleton guard we’d freed from Nyima’s family’s tomb.

“Is that…?” Roger whistled. “It totally is!”

The skeleton caught up with one of the guards, driving his blade into his back. He then tossed his shield at another guard, cracking him in the side of the head. The skeleton glanced over to us, nodded, and continued slaughtering Hugo’s soldiers.

“As I was saying…” I told Roger and Saruul. “I believe this is our cue to go.”

In the end, we hadn’t made much of an entrance when we’d arrived at the rest stop, but we sure had made one hell of an exit.

Chapter Nine: Heads Down

The jungle at night was as harrowing as I assumed it would be. I knew better than to be afraid—I had a goddamn fire sword with me, and a snow lioness, not to mention a cantankerous bird with a dagger—but that didn’t stop a small amount of fear from spreading through me, especially when we were in full blackout.

Knowing that the soldiers may be after us, I had yet to brandish my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, instead relying on Saruul’s night vision to guide us through the jungle. We pushed on, my focus now on Saruul, who occasionally flicked her tail against me to let me know where she was going.

I could hear myself breathing, the hum of insects all around me, the ground beneath me damp, a floral scent to the air. Commotion to our left caused Saruul to pause; she picked up her pace again, grunting to herself as we started down a hillside covered in vines and roots.

I nearly tripped; she caught me just in time.

“You have to keep up,” she whispered.

“I’m not half-lion,” I reminded her, taking a moment to catch my breath.

She kissed me on the cheek and we continued.

Once we were far enough away from the rest stop, Saruul instructed me to stop and remain completely motionless. She nodded to the trees, and Roger flew to the canopy in an upward spiral.

She then morphed into a snow lion, taking a few careful steps around the area. Saruul returned to me, and satisfied that we hadn’t been followed, she morphed back into her human form.

“Are we good to use my sword?”

She nodded and I drew my blade, casting an orange glow on the foliage around us.

“Do you have anything brighter?” Roger asked as he touched down on my shoulder.

“It’s easier to see this way…”

“Maybe for you,” he said. “The lioness and I don’t have to worry about seeing in the dark. Maybe there’s a rune for that.”

“I’m sure there is,” I said as we continued forward.

“And so much for our restful sleep. I was having this dream…” he shuddered. “Okay, so it was about the white birds in Dornod, clearly, and there were two of them going down…”

“Shush,” Saruul told him as we made our way up a steep incline back to what I figured was one of the main roads connecting Anand to Ganbold, the plants mostly cleared from the main walkway.

“I was going to say that they were going down to the lower part of the Darkhan Mountains, nothing dirty. Well, not yet. Have you two ever hated something and loved it at the same time? There’s a lot to unpack in terms of what I saw there, but now that I think back, I’m starting to feel more and more fondly about it.”

“I think there’s a quote about nostalgia being toxic, but I don’t know who said it,” I told him.

“You’re probably right. Dreams are so fucked up.”

Roger occasionally rambled over the next several hours, Saruul and I hellbent on putting distance between us and the guards if they happened to be on our tails. I started to get the feeling that we had taken out enough of them that the smart ones wouldn’t come after us, but there was no way to tell.

The sun started to rise, adding enough light to the jungle that I could put my blade away. It was then that exhaustion hit me, my mouth dry, my eyes watering every time I yawned.

“I’m starting to lose steam over here,” I announced at some point.

“Same,” Saruul said as she found a stream. She bent down to it and started to drink.

“I really wish there was a place we could crash for a while,” I said after I’d drunk some of the water as well.

“I’m sure there is,” she said, taking a quick look around. “But it may take me a while to sniff it out. If we stay on this same trail, we’ll eventually come to a rest stop. The monks back in Anand said there were others.”

And that’s what we did, Saruul always with her ears perked up, gauging to see if anyone was indeed coming after us.

Deeper and deeper into the jungle.

It was another three or four hours before we stumbled upon a rest stop that was a much smaller affair than the one we’d come from. There was no wall surrounding it, and rather than being fully staffed, it was run by a husband and wife, both thin and muscled from years of hard labor.

The man, who had a few faded tattoos on the side of his head, busied himself by preparing a tea while his wife spoke to us.

“Just another four hours or so to Ganbold if you walk fast,” the old woman said as she used a pestle and mortar to mash plantains. I’d already seen her add an orange spice to the mix, and watching her prepare it definitely caused my stomach to grumble. The woman laughed. “Let me guess, you all are hungry as well?”

“We left in a bit of a hurry,” I said.

“Understandable. Sometimes, that’s the only way to leave,” she said as she turned the pestle to me. “I’ll be back with some bread.”

“You want me to continue?”

She laughed. “If you’re going to eat it, you can help make it!”

“Some hospitality,” Roger said as I started up.

“It’s fine; I’m hungry.”

“As am I,” Saruul said as she followed after the woman. “I’m going to see if she has any meat.”

Roger snorted once she left.

“Don’t tell me that’s a joke here too…”

“What? Calling your junk meat? Not really my caliber of joke, Nick.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Then what are you snorting about?”

“Wait, people call their penises ‘meat’ in your world?”

“You’re the one that already mentioned it…”

“Anyone ever unpack that? Who’d want to have their peen eaten? Not this fucking bird, I’ll tell you that much.” Roger shook his head with playful disdain. “Sorry. I get vulgar when the monk isn’t around. He’s like a light at the end of the tunnel for me, his bouncing ponytail guiding the way.”

“Tomorrow,” I told him, suppressing a chuckle. “Food, rest, then we get to Ganbold.”

“And hopefully we don’t have to deal with any of Hugo’s soldiers along the way.”

“Hopefully. And what was so funny about Saruul craving meat?”

Roger laughed again. “It’s just a very liony thing to say, don’t you think? That’s why I laughed. I mean, what lion is a vegetarian? One that spent too long in the womb, if you ask me. Sometimes a joke is funny in the eye of the beholder. In this case, that beholder is me, and a lioness fiending for some meat is the stuff of comedic gold. Shit. I’m tired. I think my chatter is coming from my delirium. Perhaps my sense of humor has hit a wall.”

“Possible,” I said as Saruul and the older woman returned with fresh vegetables, a cutting board, bread, and an old pot covered in black grime.

We ended up preparing a meal with some dried goat meat the woman had, which we enjoyed with her and her husband. It wasn’t a very lively conversation, and neither of them understood what Roger was telling us about, but they were polite and it turned out to be a pretty decent meal, especially the dessert which was made with the plantains I’d helped prepare.

It was approaching afternoon by this point, but after cleaning up we retired, ready to call it a day and a night. The room was quaint, forgettable, and most important: comfortable.

“If anyone comes looking for us...” I reminded the older woman once she came with an additional blanket.

“I remember, don’t tell them anything,” she said with a curt nod. “You aren’t the first guests to request this, and will most definitely not be the last.”

“I’ve got to admit,” Roger said after she left. “It feels good to be a couple of badasses on the run from the law.” He yawned. “Really good.”

“Until they catch us.”

“They won’t,” he assured Saruul. “And if they do, Nick here will slow down time and turn them all to barbeque. I’ve got my knife as well. Actually, Nick has it in his boot. But he can get it to me and I’ll do my part.”

“I’m sure you will,” Saruul told him, “but let’s not hope for such an encounter.”

It didn’t take long for the three of us to pass out, Saruul in my arms and Roger snoring, the bird on his back with his wings resting on his belly.

I was too tired to dream. I simply awoke early the next morning to find Saruul still asleep, Roger now on his side, his beak open and his tongue hanging out.

Rather than disturb either of them, I shifted to a seated position and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths all the way to the back of my skull. We would reach the capital city of Ganbold soon, and reunite with Lhandon. But I would also have to deal with Hugo, which may be more difficult now that I had killed some of his guards.

And how was I to be granted an audience with him anyway? Was I supposed to just show up near the emperor’s estate and wave my hands until they let me in?

And even though I was supposed to be meditating, I found myself nodding.

That was exactly what I would do.

Shifting my thoughts away from how things could potentially play out, mostly because I knew that trying to predict my own future never worked out exactly how I envisioned it, I again visualized the switch that turned on my power.

Activating my power was getting easier now.

Soon I would be able to use it even more fluidly, and at that point, I would try to decrease the strain I felt in using it. As it stood, I could only use my power three or four times in a row without incurring a massive headache.

Hopefully, that would change.

Roger started shrieking, the bird shooting to the ceiling before realizing he was dreaming and lowering back down.

“Dreaming about white birds again?” I asked as Saruul woke, the lioness groaning about Roger.

“Not this time,” Roger said, still catching his breath. “It was your archnemesis, Evan. He shot me with an arrow and this time it actually connected. Fuck!” He looked at his body just to be sure there wasn’t an arrow sticking out of it. “We’ve got to kill that guy next time we see him.”

We were served yesterday’s bread for brunch, and after some tea, we set out, eventually coming across more bodies roped to palm trees. These ones had rotted for a longer period of time in the jungle, flies and other insects eating away at them.

It was foul. It was an absolutely terrible thing to witness and smell, so we quickly moved on.

“I really hope your friend the emperor can understand birdspeak because I got a few things to say to him about this gross display of power he keeps pushing on the islanders,” Roger said as we dipped under vines covered in blue flowers, bees humming around them.

“I have no idea what he’s going to say.”

Roger swallowed one of the bees whole. “It’s good eating, Nick!” he assured me.

The jungle started to morph into something more akin to a marsh. We walked along a boardwalk that looked as if it had recently been installed, the wood still fresh. I could now see the city walls of Ganbold in the distance, a haze hanging over the capital of the Island Kingdom of Jonang.

The space was mostly flat, palms jutting out of the marsh. There were other boardwalks as well, some with people fishing off them. I saw soldiers as well, many standing guard and holding umbrellas to shield themselves from the sun, which I could definitely feel on the tops of my ears and the back of my neck.

“How should we do this?” I asked Saruul as I spotted some guards in the distance. “They could have sent a seagull.”

“Leave it to a goddamn seagull to rat us out,” Roger said.

“Or…” Saruul raised an eyebrow as she nodded at me.

“Or what?”

“This place is all about honor. If a dozen of your soldiers lost to two people…”

“Three!” Roger squawked.

“Okay, three. If a dozen of your soldiers lost to three people, and you had a terribly cruel ruler, would you report it? Or would you think of some other way to explain what had happened.”

“Good point,” I said. “Either way, be ready for anything.”

“I always am, honey,” she said, using the word I’d used on her the other day.

I ignored Roger’s cackle as we approached the soldiers at the Ganbold city gates. We were just passing them when one called out to us.

“Yes?” I asked, turning to him and keeping my hand close enough to my sword that I could draw it.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked with a grunt.

“Um…”

“Lhasa,” Saruul told him. “Have you ever seen a snow lion on an island before?”

“I can’t say that I have,” he said, eyeing her curiously.

“We were shipwrecked and we have an important meeting with the monks at the Temple of Ocean Sky.”

“Wait a minute. Are you with the monk from Lhasa?” he asked, a smile coming onto his face. “The Exalted One?”

“Yes, do you know him?” I asked.

“In fact I do,” the soldier said. His counterpart approached and he waved him away. “He stopped by this morning and brought us refreshments, telling us that he was expecting company. Remember that monk?” he asked the other soldier.

“The Exalted One?”

“That’s him, the Exalted One. Nice guy,” the soldier in bamboo covered armor said. He offered us a slight bow. “The temple isn’t too far from the gates here. Take your first left once you get in the city and continue up that path until the road forks, keep to the left, you can’t miss it. Really. It’s all gold and white.”

“Great,” Roger said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“And you have a bird,” the soldier said, turning his attention to Roger. “I really need to get to the mainland. I’ve always wanted a bird as a pet!”

We continued onward, Roger mumbling under his breath about how he wasn’t a pet.

Ganbold definitely had the feel of a capital city, the roads twice the size of the ones in Anand. The buildings were white here rather than the color of sandstone, and aside from an occasional dwelling, most had ceramic tile roofs.

Very few vine-covered trellises here as well.

Instead, the people of Ganbold preferred dense flowering bushes managed by topiarists, a few of them at work with their shears as we continued toward the temple.

There was silence to the place that didn’t sit well with me, and as we progressed toward the temple, I noticed that people rarely made eye contact with us. Those that did either looked away or bowed, everyone trying to keep to themselves.

“Friendly place,” Roger said as I noticed something glistening at the end of a lane of two-story homes.

“What did you expect, a red carpet?”

He cackled. “Red? No, but I did expect a velvet one, perhaps a yellow carpet.”

“Birds don’t need carpets,” Saruul reminded him as the temple took shape in the haze of the city.

It was completely gold, with the top floors covered in glazed glass that made it hard to focus on due to where the sun currently sat. There were four pagodas acting as the posts, and perfectly manicured hedges and small stepping stones leading up to several entrances.

A portly monk in saffron robes stood out front, pacing back and forth, his hands behind his back.

“Lhandon?” I whispered, and as if he heard me the monk turned to see us, joy rocketing across his face.

Chapter Ten: The Temple of Ocean Sky

Barely able to contain his excitement, Lhandon led us up one of the step paths to a pocket door that doubled as a wall. It seemed sturdy enough to stop a sudden wind, yet it looked like the door effortlessly slid open.

“Praise the gods!” Lhandon said as we came into a room in the Temple of Ocean Sky that offered a stunning view of the city, a horizontal line of ocean in the distance.

“The Path of Possession is treating you well,” Roger said, landing on the windowsill.

“What’s that?”

“He’s wondering if you’ve converted,” I told him as Lhandon quickly placed some cushions on the ground for us to sit on.

“Converted? Ha!” Lhandon laughed long and hard at this. “I’d never do such a thing, Roger. You should know that by now!”

Saruul took her seat, smiling at Lhandon as he made his way to the ground as well. “Roger has been pushing everyone’s buttons as of late.”

“What? Ah, come on, lioness, don’t tell him that. I can’t defend myself!”

“I’m sure he has been lovely. And to further comment on your statement—please, Nick, sit, relax—I’ve been dedicating myself to keeping my prostrations up while I’ve been here, and I have officially made it past the Broken Sword stage, although I’d like Jigme to be the one who officially recognizes this once we go back to Dornod.”

Just the mention of Saruul’s hometown caused her to sigh.

“Do you miss home?” Lhandon asked, turning his focus to her.

“I do.”

“I can understand that. Hopefully, we won’t be in the Island Kingdom much longer?”

“Are you telling me we’re going back to Lhasa after this?” Roger asked after dropping to the floor.

“That was the plan…”

“Come on, Nick, our adventure has just begun! I thought we’d make it to Paro at the rate we’re going.”

“We’ll see. Please, Lhandon, continue.”

The monk lowered his head, a humble smile on his face. “I was just saying that I’ve been keeping up my meditation and prostrations, continuing to drill down on the restructured Path of the Divine. I have more notes about small adjustments, nothing that should concern you all, but notes none the less. It will take me a while to clear the ten thousand prostrations for the Wheel with a Rusty Axle stage, and I’d like to drill down on some of the information studied for this section, but progress is being made. Also, I was lonely.”

“The truth comes out!” Roger said with a cackle.

“We would have come sooner, but it took us some time to get the news that you were indeed in Ganbold, and then there was the jungle…”

“You didn’t come by boat?” he asked me, his eyebrows rising with concern.

Saruul shook her head. “After what happened out at sea? I’m still not ready to get on a boat.”

Lhandon fixed his ponytail and continued speaking, “I can understand that. I was just lucky to be able to join Tsegi in one of her rescue boats. That sea dragon! Never have I seen such a terrible thing! I knew in my heart of hearts that you three would survive, but the last couple days before I got word from the monastery in Anand were excruciating indeed. I kept my faith through meditation, prostrations, and perusing the library here,” he said. “But it was quite challenging.”

“We were worried as hell about you, as well,” I told him.

Silence stretched between us until Lhandon finally spoke: “It is painful to not know the outcome of the life of someone you hold dear.”

“Who runs this place anyway?” I asked, hoping to change the tone of our conversation.

While Lhandon’s room was relatively simple, just a bed and a table covered in papers and books, the rest of the monastery and the hallway outside had been absolutely decadent thus far, the ceilings done up in silver and gold frescos with dozens of portraits and elaborate hand-painted religious scenes on the walls. Even the wood flooring looked to be a step up from any wood floor I’d ever seen in Lhasa, perfectly crafted and stained.

“That would be Sukhbat the Precious Heart Gem. He is an older monk with…” Lhandon swallowed hard. “…a lot of possessions and worldly tendencies that I do not agree with. But he has been quite hospitable, so I can’t knock him there. How has your practice been?”

Roger snorted.

“We’ve been a little engaged since arriving on the island,” I told Lhandon, launching into the story of how we had come across Nyima the sand spirit and eventually acquired the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers.

“You have a fan?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

I took the fan from the front of my robes and gave it to Lhandon. He opened the fan for a moment and admired it, running his finger along the bird stitchings.

“Careful with that thing,” I started to say. “We cleared out a hallway using it.”

Lhandon snapped the hand fan shut. “Cleared out a hallway?”

“We were staying at a rest stop on the way here when there was a disturbance in the hallway,” Saruul said. “Nick intervened, preventing one of Hugo’s soldiers from terrorizing one of the women that worked there. More soldiers came. Nick used the fan to clear them out.”

“How exactly?”

“Just tell him to open it and wave it at his own face,” Roger said. “It’ll blow his ponytail right off!”

“It creates an enormous gust of wind. I don’t know how powerful it can get, but it was powerful enough in the hallway to knock all the men over. It wasn’t easy to get, that fan. We had to fight a skeleton in a crypt on the outskirts of Anand for Nyima to give it to us.”

“You fought a skeleton?” Lhandon asked with a shudder.

“We sure did,” Roger said proudly, puffing out his chest.

“I think he’s proud,” Lhandon observed.

“He’s a lot of things,” Saruul said under her breath.

“Not only did we fight the skeleton, but we also freed the skeleton, and he later came back to help us in the courtyard,” I said. “Although, I don’t know how or why he was there.”

“He did?” Lhandon asked. “How utterly bizarre!”

“It’s been an insane couple of days,” Roger said as the door opened.

A young monk slipped into the space with a platter of fruit. He placed the platter before Lhandon, performed a full prostration, and left without saying a word.

Lhandon went for some grapes. “Like I said, they are very hospitable around here. Please, eat.”

Saruul and I took from the tray, the lioness going for a juicy fruit that resembled a peach while I went for a string of small bananas. The young monk returned with a pitcher of coconut water, which he poured into bowls and handed to each of us before leaving.

“There’s so much to talk about,” Lhandon said, “so very much. Okay, let’s start with the soldiers. You are aware that your friend is the emperor now, correct?”

“I am. Hugo won the emperorship during the Moon Tournament.”

“Ah, so you are aware then. I came to know of this once I arrived in the Port of Sor with Tsegi. She was very helpful, I must say, and she said it would take her a week or two to get a ship together to get back to Sarpang. She also offered us a free voyage on this vessel, if our stars align. I digress. It has been quite harrowing to hear about what your friend has done to dissidents.”

“Yes,” I said, recalling the people we’d come across who were pinned to trees. “I’m still trying to process it, to be honest with you.”

“It’s very sad, but maybe there is hope. Perhaps you’ll be able to connect with him, and convince him to use his power to help those that need help. But that remains to be seen. When do you plan to visit Emperor Hugo?”

“Tomorrow. I’d like to get the lay of the land first.”

“Emperor Hugo has used the island’s religion against itself, meaning that all the monasteries and temples have, thus far, avoided any of his crueler forms of punishment. He’s distributed items from the government’s vault to the temples, which, as you know, is how they worship here.”

“Yep, weird cult shit that is edging way too close to a circle jerk,” Roger said.

“I’ve seen it,” I told Lhandon, recalling what we’d witnessed in the monastery in Anand, how all of the monks had positioned themselves in a circle around the boy monk as he absorbed power from his various items.

“It is quite the conundrum,” Lhandon said, a frown coming across his face. “But these are the waters we are faced with navigating. Has Roger made friends? I meant to ask that earlier. There are so many seagulls, and they all seem so wonderful.”

“Kill me. Nick, take the knife we stole from that dead soldier and kill me with it. Look me in the eyes when you do it. Wait, that’s weird. Make Saruul do it. I’m sure she’d do it.”

“Nick, give me your knife,” Saruul said with a grin on her face.

“Why would you need his knife?” Lhandon asked, genuinely confused.

“Never mind, and Roger hates the seagulls, just to be clear. They gave him a rough time on the beach and one of them tried to shit on him.”

“Oh my!” Lhandon gasped.

“Oh my is fucking right,” Roger said. “Look, I’m not an elitist, but I went to a top-tier school and I’ll be damned if some seagull is going to shit at me!”

“He really doesn’t like the seagulls, does he?” Lhandon asked.

“Your translation skills have improved…”

Lhandon laughed. “Perhaps they have. Well then, Roger, I have a challenge for you. While we are here in Jonang, I would like you to befriend a seagull. Male or female, it doesn’t matter to me. It is important for us to look past our differences as we better ourselves on the Path of the Divine.”

“Befriend a seagull?” Roger shook his head incredulously.

“Attempt it, yes,” Lhandon said.

“I don’t know…”

“I’m sure you will be able to honor my request.” Lhandon cleared his throat. “Now, there are other things we have to discuss, and a rune I’d like to show you. But before we do that, I want to tell you that I’ve narrowed the search down for the reincarnation of the Exonerated One. According to Sukhbat the Precious Heart Gem, there was a boy born in Zol in a very auspicious way. Not only was he born without a single whimper, but he also had an annoyed look on his face.”

Roger laughed. “That’s… that’s not evidence of anything.”

“And you think this could be him?” I asked Lhandon.

“I do. The Exonerated One said a lot of things to me over my time at his monastery, and one of those things was how he didn’t like the sound of crying babies, and that upon rebirth, he wouldn’t disturb his parents by crying. So I believe it could be him. I don’t have the black pearl any longer to test it, but I believe there may be another solution.”

“You said Zol, right?” I asked, going for the treasure map that Nyima had given me.

“That’s right.”

“Because the sand spirit also gave us a map that should lead to a treasure somewhere around Zol.”

“What kind of treasure?”

“She didn’t know,” Saruul answered.

“Perhaps it will be worth a trip then,” Lhandon said with a nod, “especially if this treasure is something that could be useful to our cause. Let’s finish our fruit and then head to the courtyard. I would like to show you the new rune before we prepare for tonight’s dinner ceremony.”

“Ceremony?” I asked.

“I may have talked the three of you up quite a bit, and Sukhbat the Precious Heart Gem would like to have a proper welcome for you. And if you would, please indulge him. They have made my stay here very comfortable, allowing me to practice without disruption.”

Lhandon led me to an inner courtyard that I hadn’t realized was part of the temple.

The activities that took place here would be shielded from the public, which was exactly what Lhandon wanted as he sat on a cushion, a piece of parchment ready for him and placed on the ground, the quill and ink on a sheet of canvas next to it.

There were various ritual items in the inner courtyard, from banners with flags on them, as well as a set of palanquins, one of which was practically the size of a small boat.

It was just the two of us now, both Roger and Saruul staying inside. Saruul had decided to draw a bath in a private room for visiting nuns. Roger had eaten enough fruit that he had grown sleepy, the bird deciding to doze in Lhandon’s room while I learned a new rune.

“I believe there would be some merit in one day becoming a traveling scholar,” Lhandon began. “There are so many books, scrolls, and treaties that are hard to come across. Traveling has reminded me of this. If only some of the information they have here could reach Lhasa, and the reverse as well. This world could be so much better.”

“It was in my world, at least, until we got the Internet.”

“The what?” he asked me, tilting his head a bit to the right.

“I’m not even going to begin trying to explain that to you, no offense. Just think of it like this: we have a way in my world to constantly be in communication and devour as much content as we’d like. Unfortunately, most people use it as a distraction. And it hasn’t brought us that much closer together, at least not the way that you would think.”

“That I can understand,” Lhandon said. “I suppose we should begin. The rune I am going to teach you today is called Ra-Mu. You already know the character for ‘Ra,’” he said as he traced the image. I was familiar with it, a sort of curved line with the circle above it, possibly one of the easiest ones to memorize.

“Now you must learn the rune for Mu, which I hope will be fairly easy for you to remember.” He drew the rune in question on another sheet of parchment, showing it to me. It almost looked like the letter Z had been mixed with the symbol for the treble clef, business on top, a curl on the bottom.

“How do you think you would combine these two?” he asked.

“Easy. Write ‘Mu’ as normal and put ‘Ra’ over it.”

Lhandon smiled. “You really do have a knack for this; it still surprises me that you can’t actually read the language.”

“One day,” I told him as he traced Ra-Mu, and turned the image to me.

“And what does it do?” I asked him.

“I suppose I should show you what it does and explain after.” Lhandon got to his feet. “Do you mind?”

“By all means.”

“I think you will enjoy this,” he said as he traced the rune. Suddenly, Lhandon was standing behind me.

“Holy…”

He was then back in his place seated before me.

“Great, isn’t it?”

“You can teleport now?”

“Teleport?” He looked at me funny for a moment.

He was suddenly standing behind me again, as if he had been there the entire time.

“The rune allows you to move four times your normal speed for the duration of two minutes,” he told me. “I thought it would be something fascinating for you to play with.”

“To move four times my speed?”

“That’s right,” he said with a nod, seated before me again. “It is not slowing down time in the same way that you are already able to do it. I suppose explaining it isn’t going to do it justice, and that you will have to experience it for yourself. Why don’t you give it a try? But before you do, I do have one request.”

“What’s that?”

“I would also like to see what happens when you use it after you have triggered your time ability. I have been pondering what this may do.”

“Sure, and how many times can I use this rune during the day?” I asked him, remembering that I was only able to use my healing power once.

“Unfortunately, like most good things, there is some limitation. You are only able to use it three times per day, at least according to the text that I copied it from. I have tested it now, trying to use it four times, and as you can imagine, the text was right. Three times per day.”

“Got it. How about I try doing it normally for now, and then with my ability tomorrow?”

Lhandon nodded in agreement. “Yes, it is best you get used to how it feels first. Let me allow my power to expire first, then we will test something.”

Once the portly monk was ready, I traced the rune, able to remember it relatively quickly because it resembled the letter Z.

As soon as I did, I sensed a lightness I hadn’t experienced before.

Lhandon procured a small fruit that he had hidden in his robes. He tossed it in the air, and I noticed that there was something different about the gravity of it all, that it was falling slowly.

Naturally, I reached my hand up and plucked it from the air.

“So it makes everything look like it has been slowed down?” I asked him.

“Is that how you are interpreting it?”

“I believe so,” I said as he got to his feet.

“I’m going to race you to that door over there. Now, you would normally be faster than me, which is something I believe we could both agree upon. For this exercise, I want you to see just how much faster you are now.”

“Let’s do it,” I told him, feeling a buoyancy in the balls of my feet.

Lhandon stood next to me, and after counting off, I started running. It was like Lhandon was running through quicksand. I was able to come back around and do a complete loop twice before he finally got to the sliding door.

It was surreal, the monk moving in slow motion as I easily whisked by him.

“Do you see how it works?” he asked, huffing, even though he’d only run a short distance.

“It’s almost like my power,” I said. “Does that make sense?”

“It does, but like I said, you are not actually stopping time. Or slowing it. I believe you said that your power is stopping time.”

“That’s right,” I told him. “Well, it does look sometimes that things are slightly in motion, but not like this.”

“So now you can stop time, and you can also technically slow it by increasing your own speed for two minutes. Tomorrow, we will see what happens when you use this ability with your power. But for now, and since there isn’t much time left, let’s race to the other side of the courtyard so you can get used to the feeling again. Sound good?”

I nodded. “See you on the other side.”

Chapter Eleven: An Enlightening Supper

Sukhbat the Precious Heart Gem now officially held the title of the largest man I’d seen in this world. He was easily three times Lhandon’s size, his rolls upon rolls of fat barely covered by his saffron robes. The man was as wide as a park bench, and he looked even bigger than he might have been due to the two petite women who sat on the armrests of his throne.

He smiled and his jowls quivered, the big man licking his lips and motioning toward the food in front of him. Seated around the table were several other monks, all in matching robes and all with the same hairstyle that Lhandon rocked, business in front and party in the back via a ponytail.

Following Lhandon’s example, I bowed to Sukhbat and took a seat in front of him, Saruul on my left, Roger still on my shoulder. Lhandon settled in on my right, and as he did Roger hopped onto the table, where he found a small plate already arranged for him.

As we had experienced in Anand, there was an abundance of food before us, from seafood such as crab legs to roasts and stewed vegetables. It smelled absolutely wonderful, a hint of buttery spice and boiled fish in the air. The table had a smaller, circular table in its center, which allowed it to swivel, the food display directly in front of me.

Following Lhandon’s lead again, I quickly prepared a plate.

As the table turned it made a cranking sound, locking into place every time it stopped. By the end, all of us had filled our plates, the two women with Sukhbat busying themselves by feeding the girthy man.

I tried not to stare at them, focusing on eating my own food instead of gawking. It was hard not to want to watch one of the women climb up Sukhbat’s arm and shovel food into his mouth while the other waited with a napkin to clean his lips.

I was surprised Roger didn’t say anything about it, but the bird was on his best behavior for once, and I was happy about that.

We ate mostly in silence, and after one of the women brought a glass of coconut water to his lips, Sukhbat finally decided to speak.

“And you are enjoying your stay in the Island Kingdom?” he asked.

“It has been quite the experience,” I told him.

“Understatement of the year,” Roger said under his breath. The bird had mostly gone for the shrimp that was wrapped in bacon and garnished with something that reminded me of pico de gallo. He looked over to me; I gave him a nod reminding him to be a good bird.

“I have been to Lhasa and Paro,” Sukhbat said, “and I agree, going somewhere new can be eye-opening. I very much liked the city of Nagchu, and there were a few times I tried lotus. It wasn’t for me, but I do understand its appeal.”

“So lotus never made its way here?” I asked.

“It was starting to make its way here,” Sukhbat said with a grunt, “but Emperor Hugo put a stop to that. Anyone caught selling or smuggling the narcotic was put to death. It only took about a week of killing people for the general population to get the point.”

I heard Roger cluck. I could see Saruul bite her lips out of the corner of my eye, the snow lioness making her feelings known.

“It is a very hard substance to control,” Lhandon said, jumping into the conversation. “Which is why I believe many of the cities in Lhasa have decided to look the other way, aside from Bamda, which most certainly is a reason Madame Blanche was warring with Madame Mabel.”

“I personally believe it is better this way,” Sukhbat said as he shook his wrist out, his jewelry clinking together. One of his female attendants cleaned his face with a wet cloth. She kissed his cheek, and he waved her away. “The poison was turning people stupid, which was perhaps one reason Emperor Hugo found it easy to take control of the kingdom.”

A few of the monks furrowed their brows; one of them looked to the big man, his throat quivering for a moment before he glanced away.

Sukhbat laughed. “As you can see, the monks here are fearful of talking ill of Emperor Hugo. But not me. The entire city would revolt if he came after me. I’m not worried. This allows me to speak frankly about him, and frankly, I am disappointed in how Emperor Hugo has instructed his soldiers to kill their way across our kingdom. He is an Immortal, I recognize this, but with such a title comes the responsibility to promote and preserve life, not extinguish it. I have yet to have words with him about it, but it is something I do plan to do in the coming days.”

“We were told his power made him indestructible. Is this the case?”

“Not exactly,” he told me. “I was at the Moon Tournament, and I witnessed firsthand what he is able to do. Emperor Hugo is able to absorb more blows than a mortal man, but he still takes damage in doing so. While most won’t admit it, Emperor Minkoko almost bested him. But Emperor Hugo is a ruthless fighter, and he managed to kill the previous emperor in the end, slitting his throat with a knife so everyone could see. Now that he has access to the governmental treasury, he has outfitted himself in relics and other jewelry that allows him to heal, which has made him almost indestructible.”

“This is all good to know,” I told him. “Hugo is an old friend of mine and I plan to meet with him tomorrow.”

The big man laughed. “You and just about every other influential person in this kingdom.”

“Nick is an Immortal,” Lhandon reminded Sukhbat. “They’re from the same world. Surely he will be granted an audience.”

“Perhaps, but the items that Emperor Hugo wears will only add to his psychosis, which may thwart that meeting.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Lhandon tells me that you came from the monastery of the Golden Jewel in Anand, so you may have already seen how some react to your items.”

I nodded, recalling the boy floating in our room and staring down at us.

“The leader there is a reincarnated master, so while the Golden Jewel likely seemed a bit impulsive, he was controlling his ability as best a boy his age can. Emperor Hugo has no instinct for the self-control that a reincarnated master has developed over multiple rebirths. What I’m trying to say here is that he may have joined the tournament with purity in his heart, or he may have joined it simply because he was a competitive person who saw an opportunity to win. But what has become of this kingdom after? That is a direct result of being poisoned by his relics. I do not believe an Immortal would behave in such a way. Then again, Ganbold the Strong was quite ruthless.”

“So you think it is the relics that are making him do this?” I asked.

“I do, although some of my colleagues in this room would disagree with me,” he said, scanning his monks, all of whom kept their heads bowed. “So I wish you luck, but do not expect to get very far in meeting Emperor Hugo, and if you do make it through, be prepared to encounter a complete stranger.”

“Do you think a demon could have possessed him?” I asked.

“No, I do not.”

“Because we have seen that before, in Lhasa,” I explained. “Madame Mabel was possessed by a demon, and we ended up having to fight it.”

“No, I don’t believe that is the case, but I am not confident enough to say that I am never wrong. Perhaps one of the relics he wears is possessed by a spirit from the Underworld, that may be a possibility, but it isn’t a demon.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about spirits from the Underworld,” I said. “We have been attacked by several now, and I am lucky enough to have a rune taught to me by my dakini that allows me to fight back against them. What is the difference between a spirit and a demon?”

“A spirit still has ties to the Underworld or the Overworld; a demon has completely left that realm and has pressed through the threshold of heaven or hell to take form and refuge here.”

“Is there anything that we can read that would help us better understand spirits from either world?” Lhandon asked. “I didn’t see anything in the library here, but I figured you would be the best person to ask.”

Sukhbat mulled this question over as one of his female consorts brought him a small dish with powdered balls of dough on it. She fed them to him one at a time, the big man grunting in satisfaction. Once he was finished, the other woman cleaned his lips and he spoke again: “I believe there is one book in the main monastery in Zol that may help you. It is a text called Conversations with a Hellspawn, which details going to the Underworld and returning to the middle plane.”

“Fascinating,” Lhandon said. “This gives us another thing to do in Zol while we search for the reincarnation of the Exonerated One.”

“Do you think it would have anything in there about doubles?” I asked.

“Doubles?” Sukhbat chewed on this suggestion for a moment. “I don’t believe that book would have any information on it, and I know for certain that there is nothing here in our library that may help you. Were you having an issue with doubles?”

I quickly explained to him how my double had reunited me with my companions in the Great Plateau, and how it had come to Lhandon and me while we were jailed and had fetched help.

“A double only exists if you have died,” he said after I finished. “You are clearly alive, so I do not believe that it was a double.”

“Then what?” Roger asked.

Sukhbat looked to the tropical bird. “Did you see it as well?”

“I did, too,” Saruul said.

The big man took a deep breath, sighing audibly. “When I visited Lhasa, I spent some time at the Blackened Sky Temple in Bamda, where I studied a treaty on doubles and their interaction with our plane of existence. There are many fascinating stories about them, but none of these stories involve a person actually seeing their own double. It is always someone else who sees it, someone else who is guided from a deadly situation, or someone else who was greeted by a dead family member one last time. So I don’t believe it is a double that you all witnessed because you are still alive, and you yourself saw it.”

“Then what?”

Sukhbat licked his lips. “That I do not have an answer to, unfortunately. But the Exalted One mentioned that your ability has something to do with the manipulation of time. Perhaps it is related to that.”

Chapter Twelve: Turn Back Time

“I still don’t think it is a good idea for you to go alone,” Lhandon said as he took his place before me in the courtyard. It was the next morning, and we had already eaten breakfast, Lhandon wanting to test what would happen if I used the new rune he’d taught me while my ability was activated. Saruul and Roger were there as well, both standing off to the side.

“Then Roger can come with me, but not you two,” I said. “Just in case something happens to me, at least you both will be safe.”

“I don’t want to be safe,” Saruul protested. “I want to be with you.”

“It’s better this way. If Roger comes, he can escape quickly and return here to let you both know that something has happened to me. I don’t believe anything’s going to happen to me. While I understand that Hugo has changed, and that he has started to do terrible things, he really is one of my oldest friends. I expect this meeting to be cordial.”

“Well, I expected to meet a beautiful tropical bird here in Ganbold and already be well on our way to popping out a pair of twins by this point.”

“I thought birds could have more than two babies,” Saruul said to Roger. “I mean, when you lay eggs.”

“First, I don’t lay eggs. They should have taught you that in lion school. Second, my species usually only lays one or two eggs. We are a little rare, if I do say so myself. Not like the inbred seagulls you saw down by the shore. Also, how did we get onto the discussion of bird reproduction? Because if that’s what we want to talk about, I have a lot of things to say about it.”

“That would be your fault,” I told Roger. “You are the one that brought up having twins.”

“What’s he saying? Does he agree with us that you shouldn’t go to meet Emperor Hugo alone?” Lhandon asked.

“Sort of.”

“I think it’s risky, Nick. We have made it this far, and only reunited yesterday.”

“I’m aware. But I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. I have agreed for Roger to come; that makes sense to me because he can escape quickly.”

“I just don’t know…” Lhandon said as he shook his head.

“I don’t like this either,” Saruul added.

“Well, I like it,” Roger said. “Let’s see if Hugo’s fucking henchmen can catch me. Point me to the closest window and I am gone like a fart in a hurricane.”

“All right,” Lhandon said, rubbing his hands together. “Since you aren’t going to agree to let us come with you to the Emperor’s Palace, I suppose we should move on. Let’s see what happens when you cast Ra-Mu after you have activated your power.”

He stepped aside and placed both hands behind his back, giving me a firm nod.

I steadied my breath, the switch starting to take shape in my mind’s eye.

I triggered it, and as soon as it activated I traced the rune, starting with the section that was like the letter Z and ending in the bottom half that resembled a treble clef. I finished it off with a line on top and a circle above the line.

“All right,” Lhandon said, rubbing his hands together. “Since you aren’t going to agree to let us come with you to the Emperor’s Palace, I suppose we should move on. Let’s see what happens when you cast Ra-Mu after you have activated your power.”

“What?” I asked, looking to him with confusion.

“The rune, Nick. That’s why we are out here. I thought you already understood this.”

“But I just activated it...”

“Did you activate your power? Shouldn’t I be frozen if that were the case?” Lhandon looked to Saruul.

“What are you talking about, Nick?” Roger asked.

“Okay…” I visualized the switch again and mentally reached out to activate it. As soon as I did I traced the rune.

“All right,” Lhandon said, rubbing his hands together. “Since you aren’t going to agree to let us come with you to the Emperor’s Palace, I suppose we should move on. Let’s see what happens when you cast Ra-Mu after you have activated your power.”

I gave him a funny look. “Dude, I just did.”

“Am I a dude now?” he asked, looking to me curiously. “If so, I am honored. I have only heard you call Bobby that word. It is an honorary title, is it not?”

“No, I activated my power and I cast the rune. You have now said the same thing three times in a row. Also, ‘dude’ is not an honorary title.”

“What do you mean?” Lhandon asked.

“Did someone slip some chung into their morning tea?” Roger asked. “I’m all about day drinking, but morning drinking… That means you have a problem, Nick.”

I thought for a moment about how I could prove to them that something was happening, time was reversing itself.

No, that was impossible…

“Let me try again,” I said.

“Again?” Saruul asked.

“Never mind.”

I visualized the switch and traced the rune once my power activated.

“All right,” Lhandon said, rubbing his hands together. “Since you aren’t going to agree to let us come with you to the Emperor’s Palace, I suppose we should move on. Let’s see what happens when you cast Ra-Mu after you have activated your power.”

“It reverses time,” I said, nodding with excitement. “Lhandon, casting the rune while my power is activated reverses time.”

“Have you already done it?” he asked, an eyebrow raising.

“I have done it four times now. And every time I do it, you say the same thing. You know what? I’ll prove it to you. Wait, you don’t read my language. I can’t prove it that way. Okay, here’s what we will do: I want you to write your name down on a piece of parchment. I want you to write: ‘Nick is reversing time. He asked you to write this after using his ability four times. It is evident that he has reversed time yet again.’ Or something like that.”

“As you wish,” Lhandon said as he crouched down, quickly writing the words on a piece of parchment he’d taken from the front of his robes.

“From what I can tell, using the rune while my power is activated resets my daily limit. I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s going to actually work. I mean, if I’m reversing time, wouldn’t I just reverse this interaction up until this point? Wait, that’s not what I mean…”

“I don’t know, it depends on the point which time is looping back to,” Lhandon said.

“I did not sign up for this,” Roger said as Lhandon handed me the piece of parchment. “I’ve seen some pretty weird things, but if we are going to start reversing time…” An idea came to him. “Actually, there are some things I regret that happened in Dornod. If you are able to reverse time, maybe I could write myself a little note reminding myself not to spend an evening with the white birds. Fun as it was, I’m still troubled by it.”

“Okay, does everyone see this piece of parchment?” I asked, holding out the parchment.

“We see it,” Saruul said.

“You know what would be better? I want each of you to put a mark on it as well,” I said, motioning Roger and Saruul forward. Roger simply dipped his foot in the ink and pressed it onto the parchment, while Saruul signed her name next to what Lhandon had written.

They stepped away again, and I activated my power, tracing the rune.

“All right,” Lhandon said, rubbing his hands together. “Since you aren’t going to agree to let us come with you to the Emperor’s Palace, I suppose we should move on. Let’s see what happens when you cast Ra-Mu after you have activated your power.”

“Lhandon, I want you to read this,” I said as I handed him the piece of parchment, my hand shaking a little with excitement.

“Who wrote it…?” His eyes went wide. “Oh, oh my.” Lhandon mumbled something to himself for a moment. He cleared his throat and read the note: “‘Nick is reversing time. He asked you to write this after using his ability four times. It is evidence that he has reversed time yet again.’ Your name is signed here as well, Saruul, and I believe this is your footprint on the back,” he said, showing Roger the back of the parchment.

“Five times now,” I told them. “And every time I use it, it seems to reset to the point in which you say a line about moving on and seeing what happens after I cast the rune. But I don’t know how to change the point which time is resetting to. You would think that by the fifth time, you would understand what has transpired…” I shook my head. “It makes no sense.”

“But this is good,” Lhandon said, placing the piece of parchment in his robes. “It is something we will have to experiment with. But now is not the time, clearly.”

“So you telling me that when Nick slows down time and casts the rune that speeds up time he ends up reversing time? Because that’s crazy talk.” Roger pretended to faint off Saruul’s shoulder, gliding away from the ground at the last moment.

“What’s gotten into him?”

“He wants to know if you are suggesting that using the rune to speed up time while my ability to basically stop time is activated ends up reversing time. He’s being dramatic,” Saruul translated.

“No, I’m not!”

“That is precisely what I believe is happening,” Lhandon said. “At least according to this note. But we don’t yet know how to set the time which Nick will return to. If that makes any sense.”

Saruul shook her head. “This is dangerous,” she said firmly. “While I see its usefulness, something tells me that it could also cause trouble for us in some way.”

“Maybe so, but maybe we could…” A thousand thoughts came to me and I suppressed them all.

Unless I was able to control the exact point which I returned to, the power would be nothing more than a parlor trick. If I unlocked that part of it, then it would actually be useful.

“We will continue to explore it,” Lhandon said, “but for now, maybe it is best that you head to the palace. There’s no point in delaying this any longer. It’s time for you to meet Emperor Hugo.”

I placed my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom. “Roger?”

“Let’s go,” he said upon landing on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about us,” he called Lhandon and Saruul. “Nick and I have got this.”

“I suppose I should have asked for the direction of the palace,” I told Roger as soon as we were out of the Temple of Ocean Sky. I didn’t want to turn back to Lhandon and Saruul; I didn’t want to see the concern in their eyes.

Hugo and I had known each other since middle school, and even though he had played sports in high school and I’d gravitated toward the marching band, we’d always been close. I had drunk my first beer with Hugo, we had worked a couple summer jobs together, and we had talked whenever we could once he was sent overseas.

He was rough around the edges, but a good man, one who had served his country, and I was convinced I would be able to get through to him.

But getting through to Hugo would require access, and as we made it to the end of the lane, and even as I asked someone where the palace was, I was well aware that getting this access may not be as easy as I had hoped.

“So, what’s your plan?” Roger asked as we turned in the direction of the palace. “Are you just going to waltz in there and say ‘Hey, it’s me, your old buddy,’ or something of the sort? What about ‘old dude?’ Is that how you would say it? ‘Hey, it’s me, your old dude.’ Do you want to send me in with a message? Maybe that would work. I’m assuming you two read the same language.”

“We do, and I’m going in without a plan,” I told him.

“That seems mighty competent of you.”

“I want to know what’s happening, why he has done what was done, and once I know those things, I can start to formulate a plan, if there is even a plan involved here. Maybe today I will just meet with him, let him know that I’m staying in the city, and then we can meet again and see if we can get to the bottom of this. Don’t forget that we saw someone kill themselves after we freed them. This is a different world, and while I have taken one path here, Hugo has clearly taken another.”

Roger shook his head. “Understatement of the century.”

We continued down a road lined with palatial estates with wrought iron fences shielding them from the street. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but Anand had a charm to it, especially after seeing the cold white lines of the buildings here, how everything looked impeccable in an almost distasteful way.

It reminded me of some of the newer shopping centers in towns across America, everything perfect, square, manicured, yet still missing something.

The people moving in the streets were a mixture of red-skinned island dwellers, sunburnt denizens with ingrained wrinkles on their faces, mouthy merchants, and women with feathered hair that I first assumed was a regional thing in and around Anand, but was starting to think otherwise.

I was glad to be wearing a fresh set of robes, the saffron-colored material cool against my skin.

We were on a hill now, and I could see the ocean in the distance, a sparkling line of blue. I noticed a group of seagulls flying in a circle over the beach as someone fed them, and quickly decided that it was a quaint scene, something that called out to me.

After coming downhill, it was impossible to miss the palace.

The grand structure backed up against the ocean, and there were guards on the wall walk, in the street, and at various stations around the outer walls, which were made of polished gray stones. The structure itself was the same white as the rest of the buildings in the city, but there was something polished about it, something that made it look more like ivory than bleached sandstone.

There was a line of vendors in front of the palace offering partial tours and selling tchotchkes, as well as wealthier citizens moving through the streets in palanquins. There were poor people as well, street urchins running out to the wealthier citizens, begging with their hands outstretched, a soldier chasing a few of them off as I neared the palace gates.

I looked up at the wall in front of the palace, which was easily fifteen to twenty feet tall.

From there my eyes came to one of the guards standing before the wall, at yet another guard station. As I took a few steps closer to him, he turned to me, revealing an additional guard standing next to him. Both of them approached, the two soldiers in full armor and holding spears and shields with golden accents.

As they did, I traced the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes.

“I’m here to see Emperor Hugo,” I said as I lowered my hand.

“So move aside, motherfuckers,” Roger chimed in.

“You and everyone in the country,” the lead guard growled. I quickly surmised that he was in charge, based on the elaborate display of rankings on his breast, as well as golden markings on his helmet, but he looked young, with his stringy mustache and acne on the sides of his cheeks. “I suggest you turn away.”

“I don’t think you understand,” I told him. “I am old friends with Emperor Hugo. Send word to him now that Nick is here; I guarantee you these gates will open up. I’m from the same world as Hugo.”

“That’s Emperor Hugo. And you claim to be an outsider?” the other soldier asked.

“I am indeed. Now, please send word to him that I am here.”

“I’m sure everyone in the city would claim that they are an outsider to meet Emperor Hugo,” the lead guard said, a snarl forming on his face. “There is nothing about you that is special.”

“Do you really want to do that?” I asked as I watched the other soldier start to lift his shield, aiming his spear at me. I placed my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt. “Because I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“Drop your weapon!” the lead guard said as he also aimed his spear. I hadn’t fought someone with a spear before, but it was fairly simple to whip my sword out and swat his weapon away, my fiery blade alone startling the two soldiers.

Roger flew up into the air for a moment, and then return to my shoulder. “We have company,” he clucked as more guards came. I glanced up to see that there were now arrows aimed at me.

“Take me to Emperor Hugo!” I said, starting to visualize the switch that stopped time.

“You just signed your death warrant,” the lead soldier said, nodding to the fact that there were now a dozen spear points aimed at me, as well as a wall walk full of archers. He now held a sword, his spear on the ground and blazing with fire.

“Again, I don’t think you realize who I am,” I told them firmly. “I’m not from this world; I’m from the same world as Emperor Hugo. He’s an old friend of mine. It’s not my goal to fight any of you, but if I have to prove my power, I will do so.”

“Is that a challenge?” the lead guard asked, baring his teeth. He grunted, and the guards all brought their shields up.

“I, too, am indestructible like Emperor Hugo.”

The lead soldier scoffed. “How dare you!”

“Shit, I really should have asked you to give me my dagger before we approached them…” Roger grumbled.

“Shoot me with an arrow,” I said, my sword still at the ready. “That should be proof enough.”

“Shoot you with an arrow?” the lead guard looked at one of the other soldiers, who nodded at him. “How do we know this isn’t a rune?”

“You don’t. But it should be proof enough to at least grant me an audience with the Emperor, that I am being true to my word. You can come with me if you’d like; I’m certain he will recognize me. Or you can make this easy: shoot me with the arrow, see that it doesn’t actually do anything to me, and then go tell the Emperor that I am here, that his old friend Nick Barnette is at the gate.”

“Nick Barnette…” the man said considering my name for a moment. “That isn’t a name from this world.”

“You’re catching on.”

“Unless it is a name from another continent, one that I haven’t heard of…”

“Just get this over with,” Roger said, one of the soldiers bristling, his spear tip moving even closer to me. “If you value the ability to see, put your spear down!”

The lead guard looked at Roger, wondering why the bird was squawking.

“All right,” he finally said. “I will have one of the archers fire an arrow at you. If it doesn’t penetrate your flesh, I will send word to Emperor Hugo that you are here, Nick Barnette.”

“That’s all I ask,” I said, looking up at one of the archers.

The lead guard pointed at an archer, and gave him the signal that meant to fire. The arrow struck me in the chest, and bounced off as if I were made of plastic.

“Do you need more proof?” I asked him as I slowly lowered my weapon, ready to sheathe it.

“Send word to Emperor Hugo,” the guard called to one of the soldiers behind him, honoring his promise. He returned his focus to me. “And until that time, I want you to stay right where you are.”

Chapter Thirteen: Ultimatum

The gate started to open.

“You would be wise to sheathe your weapon,” the lead guard said with a low grunt. “Apparently, and against all odds if you ask me, you’ve been granted an audience with Emperor Hugo.”

“I didn’t ask you,” I told the man as I stepped past him, where I was met by two guards in helmets with red accents and flowing red capes with white trim.

“These are the special guards,” Roger cackled as I began following them through an area that had carriages and other transportation equipment arranged and ready to go. “Better than the guards out front. At least one can hope.”

We moved into a courtyard that looked like it doubled as a training ground, dummies everywhere, as well as an arrangement of both wooden and steel weapons. The tile had recently been polished, but I could tell that there’d been blood spilled on the ground, a few of the crevices between the tiles partially crimson.

There was something odd about the space, and I had the feeling that it had been hastily set up, that the original courtyard was likely filled with ponds and flowers, matching the courtyards of many of the palatial homes we had passed.

We were led up a long stairway made of polished white stone, a red carpet cutting down it and providing little friction for our boots.

“Where are we going?” I asked one of the men in red helmets.

No response.

“It is shitbirds like this that really get on my nerves,” Roger started to say. “You ask a simple question that demands a simple answer. Instead of giving you the answer you desire, they blow you off. Talk about a pair of birdholes. Just like the seagulls at the coast with their projectile feces. This is exactly what happened when I came asking, when you and Saruul were still at sea.”

“Let’s keep our voices down,” I told him, lowering my voice, “and careful what you say in front of anyone, they may understand you.”

The inside of the palace matched the outside with its white stone, epically high ceilings, and statues carved into the walls. We continued down the red carpet, where we came to a towering oak door, easily the height of the gate outside the palace. Two soldiers, also clad in red armor with flowing red capes, came to the door at once, opening it for us.

The throne room reminded me of a monastery with its stained-glass images that circled around the space. But instead of monks and images of holy men, these motifs showcased epic battles, soldiers charging forward, blood being spilled, bodies scattered across a beach. There were cushioned seats at the front, where people would likely sit and listen to their ruler, who was currently perched on a throne made of gold.

“Hugo?” I asked as we approached the man, his face partially concealed by the way he was sitting with his chin on his fist.

He moved his hand to the side and dropped his leg to the ground.

“Nick,” he said, a faint smile coming to his face.

Hugo looked thinner than he had when I last saw him. His dark hair was shaved into a military haircut, bare skin on the sides and just a little on top. He was in a kurta similar to what many of the townspeople wore, but he had shoulder armor on as well, his other hand resting on a red helmet that hung from the end of his armrest. He wore numerous rings, several necklaces, and there was a crown on his skull made of what looked like platinum, fashioned into the head of a rattlesnake, its eyes glowing red.

The Hugo I knew would have gotten out of the chair and ran over to me, hugging me and clapping me on the back, practically tackling me.

Especially after what we had been through.

But the new Hugo merely sat there, looking me over.

“Do your guards need to be here for this?” I asked him, looking to the two men that still stood on either side of me. There were also the two men at the back, the ones who had opened the door.

“I suppose they should go. Please stand outside, but leave the door open.” Hugo waved them away with a single hand, the men bowing before they stepped out.

“Fuck this guy, fuck this guy, fuck this guy,” Roger said under his breath.

“You have a bird now?” Hugo asked, looking up at me with his dark eyes. I saw a flash of red behind them, or at least I thought I did.

“Yes, he has joined me on this journey.”

“I’m curious, Nick, what power have you received by coming to this world?”

“Don’t say anything,” Roger said under his breath. “Do not admit what your power is to him…”

“Power?” I asked, going with Roger’s advice. “What do you mean?”

“All of us have gained a power since coming here, have we not? The scholars here have explained to me how the Immortals work, and how the five of us all fit the criteria.”

“I don’t have a power, do you?”

“I do,” he said, a smile taking shape on his face. “I am indestructible.”

“And that’s how you got this position?” I asked, taking a step closer to him. “I never really saw you as the emperor-type. A liberator, sure, but this doesn’t really fit who you were back in our world.”

“He’s clearly possessed,” Roger said, a little louder this time. “You see that, right? Look at his eyes, they keep flashing red…”

“Does your bird talk to you?” Hugo asked, tilting his head toward Roger.

“He does, but I don’t understand him,” I lied.

“I don’t see the purpose of traveling with this creature then, unless you like having a pet. You didn’t seem to be very fond of pets back home, at least from what I can remember.”

“Dude, can we drop all the weird shit?” I asked, motioning my hand around the room. “It’s you and me now, man. We are two guys from America, from Massachusetts. I know that this world is crazy, and I’m sure you’ve seen some pretty wild things, as have I, but it’s you and me. So let’s cut all this bullshit out.”

Hugo shifted in his chair, the eyes on his crown glowing as he looked me over. “What are you suggesting, Nick?”

“First of all, you aren’t a king. I mean, you are now, but this isn’t you; I’m not talking to the Hugo that I grew up with. Whatever this is,” I said, gesturing toward him, “it’s not you.”

“You don’t know a single thing about who I am now,” he said, still calm, but with a hint of agitation to his voice now.

We were both silent for a moment, staring each other down.

“How did you get here?” I asked him.

“Why are you wearing monk’s robes? And what monk walks around with a sword at his waist?” Hugo smiled at me. “That isn’t a very holy thing to do.”

“I’m not a monk.”

“Then are you an animal handler? You don’t have a lion with you, do you? Perhaps a female lion…”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to hide my surprise.

“Recently, my men were attacked at a rest stop between here and Anand. Before they took their own lives to honor how poorly they had fared against their assailants, a message was delivered to me. It said that my men were attacked by a monk and a woman who could turn into a lion.”

“They didn’t say anything about a bird?” Roger shook his head. “Figures.”

“They also said that the monk had a sword made of fire. Do you have a sword made of fire?”

I placed my hand on the hilt of my weapon, withdrawing it a little from its scabbard, flames licking off it.

“How peculiar.”

“I don’t find anything strange about it,” I told him. “We live in a magical world now; there could be any number of monks running around with fire swords.”

Hugo laughed. “You still have the ability to be sarcastic when you should be respectful, interesting.”

“Respectful of what?”

“You said yourself that I am a king, which is just another word for what I actually am, an emperor. Most of the people in this land, if not all of them, choose to show me respect when they are lucky enough to meet me. Those that don’t, well, I’m sure you’ve encountered a few of them by this point.”

“Fuck you, man,” I said, keeping my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt. “What the hell do you think you’re going around doing anyway? What’s the point in treating people like that? What have these people ever done to you?”

“Nick, you have not seen the things that I’ve seen,” he said, his voice growing soft. “One of the biggest issues our country had when I was overseas was that we didn’t rule with an iron fist. No, there were too many rules we had to follow, protocols, that sort of thing. I won’t bore you with the details. We wouldn’t have had to deal with any of that had we been ruthless. And that’s what I’ve introduced here to the Island Kingdom of Jonang. Worship and respect my power and the rule of law, and you will be fine. Go against me, and you and your family will suffer immensely.”

“This isn’t you,” I said, as Roger cursed under his breath.

“It is me now,” Hugo told me. “I came to these shores, and I worked all the way up to be Emperor of the land. And I did so in a relatively short amount of time. Don’t you see, Nick?”

He nodded at a long wooden table, maps scrawled out over it.

“There are five kingdoms here, and I’ve already conquered one. Once I have enough soldiers trained and an improved fleet has been built, I will conquer another. It is who I am. It is what I have been put here to do, to possess as much of this world as I can, to grow stronger in the process, and to bring rule of law to these unruly fools.”

“We should start looking for an exit,” Roger said. “This isn’t going to end well…”

Hugo stood.

“And then what?” I asked him. “If you are able actually to do that, then what? You will die like the rest of us. You know that, right? If we don’t get out of this world, we will be cycled into its rebirth system, and considering what you’ve already done, you will end up in the Underworld. Do you really want to know what that is like? Because I have met several entities from the Underworld who have become spirits here, hoping to develop enough karma to have a better rebirth, to atone for their sins. Is that what you want?”

“You really have become a monk, haven’t you?”

“No, I’m me,” I told him. “These are things that I’ve seen, and witnessed. If we just talk about this, we could go over what we both have experienced here. I’m sure some of the things are similar, but my path, as you can see, has pushed me toward one of the five main religions here. It’s not that I am a hundred percent in agreement with it, but I have witnessed what happens in this world if you do things that are vile. And you wouldn’t like what happens. You may be powerful up until the day you die, but after that…”

“Their religion and all of their ideas are basically recycled concepts of Eastern philosophies, brought by the original Immortals. None of it is true.”

Roger hopped closer to my ear. “He’s not going to listen to you, Nick. We should try to get out of here.”

“No, it is true,” I said, feeling the blood rush to my face as my voice grew louder, my heart fluttering in my chest. “I have met beings from the Underworld and the Overworld. It is entirely true. Hell, I met with one just a few days ago here on this island. I have been attacked by evil spirits from the Underworld, and I have been attacked by demons that have somehow managed to stay here on this plane.”

“You know what this is coming to, right, Nick?” Hugo asked as he cracked his knuckles.

“What?” I asked, not quite sure of where he was going with this.

“By the way you are standing with your hand on the hilt of your weapon, and the tone you have chosen to take with me, it is clear that you are challenging me.”

“Challenging you?”

“It will be some time before the next Moon Tournament, but I believe the Emperor is allowed to accept a challenger for his throne any time he sees fit. In that case, I accept your challenge, Nick.”

“I don’t want your throne,” I told him. “I want you to be reasonable, Hugo. We’ve known each other for a really long time, man. What is this? Do you want to be some crazy king slaughtering your way across an island? That’s not who you are! Wake the fuck up, Hugo. You are my friend, and this is all bullshit!”

“Is that all you would like to say? Are you ready to challenge me?” he asked, an energy swelling over his shoulders and down to his fists.

“I’m not going to fight you, Hugo. That’s not why I came here. I came here to find you! I don’t want your throne; I don’t want to rule this kingdom. I don’t want to rule any of these kingdoms. I want to…”

“You want to what?”

“I haven’t decided yet. But one thing I want to do is figure out a way to go back to our world, if it’s a possibility. Maybe I will go,” I said, my words now coming to me faster than I could process them. “But I want to help make that option available to you, and Bobby, and Tom if he’s alive.”

“And Evan?”

“Evan betrayed me,” I said, swallowing hard. “He is working for the enemy now; I really don’t know how many soldiers he has with him or anything, but I am assuming he has a pretty good number.”

“So you wouldn’t allow him to go back to our world?”

“I haven’t really thought of that,” I told him honestly. “Evan is actively trying to kill me, so…”

“Then he is in Lhasa?” Hugo asked, bringing his fists up.

“He is, but…”

“Lhasa is a much larger continent, and we were planning to sail toward the other Island Kingdom first, but if Evan is in Lhasa…” Hugo shrugged. “I never liked the guy anyway. But I suppose I can figure out those details later. Are you ready, Nick?”

“I’m not going to fight you,” I said, and to make my point I pressed my Flaming Thunderbolt down into its scabbard, the weapon clinking.

“If you aren’t going to fight me, then you leave me no other choice.”

“Be reasonable, Hugo,” I told him. “This isn’t you.”

“Nick, I never want to see you again,” he said, his fists still at the ready. “I’m going to give you two, no, one hour to get out of the city. In one hour, I will have my guards go to every home, government building, business, and monastery in the city looking for you. I will send seagulls to all the outposts across the island, telling them to engage if they see you, that you are a hostile enemy who has attempted to kill their Emperor. I’m doing this because you were once my friend. I wouldn’t give anyone else a head start. Don’t say anything. This is my ultimatum, and this conversation is over. I would suggest making your way to the Port of Sor and taking the first ship out of here if I were you, because if I, or any of my men, ever see you again, you are dead. Dead to all the worlds, Nick.”

Chapter Fourteen: Faith

I was glad Roger was there. What Hugo had said had drilled down to my very core; a former friend now turned enemy.

And soon to turn hunter.

If it wasn’t for Roger on my shoulder snapping me out of my confusion, I may have never made it out of the palace. I may have just stood there with my mouth agape, not certain of what I should do next, running out the clock. But Roger intervened, squawking in my ear and yelling for me to run.

And it was only when he mentioned Lhandon and Saruul that I was able to get a hold of myself enough to act.

I didn’t want this to fall onto them.

No words were exchanged between Hugo and I as I turned and started jogging, two of his red guards keeping up with me as I burst into the courtyard filled with military equipment, as I made it to the front gate, and from there toward the Temple of Ocean Sky.

Again it was because of Roger that I was able to locate the temple at all, the bird lifting into the air, spotting the temple, and then coming back down to guide me toward it.

I practically burst through the sliding front door that led to Lhandon’s room, startling the meditating monk.

“Where’s Saruul?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest, a bewildered look on my face.

“I believe she went to a market…”

“We have to go now,” I said, sucking in deep gulps of air. “We have one hour to leave the city, and then Hugo is going to sic all of his guards on us.”

Lhandon gasped. “Leave the city? Where should we go?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead. He suggested we go to the Port of Sor, that we find the first ship out of here. You said that Tsegi was there right?”

“Wait, you are actually thinking of running?” Roger asked me. “Nick, snap the fuck out of it. You are actually thinking of running, right?”

“I don’t want any harm to come to any of you,” I said, still focused on Lhandon. “This is between me and him, I don’t want it to affect…”

“Nick, we are all in this together now. If Hugo comes after you, he comes after us. We will stand by your side,” the monk said as he got to his feet. “I believe Saruul will be back any minute now. I will pack my things in the meantime, and I suggest you do the same.”

“But…” I shook my head, my thoughts starting to settle.

Of course, this wasn’t over. Of course, I didn’t need to run.

Roger had been right all along: a confrontation between Hugo and me was inevitable, only a matter of time. But I needed this time to process how it would happen, to get a better strategy than I currently had, which was either storm the palace gate or try to flee the city.

“We will go to Zol,” Lhandon said calmly, interpreting the confusion in my eyes. “I want you to take a seat, settle your thoughts, and regain control of your breath. I’m sure what you just experienced was heartbreaking. I can tell. And we can discuss it later.”

“Yes… I think I will do that,” I said as I took a seat. I started taking deep breaths, all the way to the back of my skull, doing my best to chill my nerves.

Lhandon slid open a door that I hadn’t noticed before, calling for one of the younger monks. A boy in saffron robes appeared almost instantly, a goofy smile on his face.

“Yes, Exalted One?”

“Find the lioness,” Lhandon told him. “We need her here now, within the next ten minutes.”

The boy nodded, bowed, and was gone.

Another monk passed and Lhandon called out to him, asking him to inform Sukhbat the Precious Heart Gem that we would be leaving shortly, and to ask him for the fastest way to leave the city in the direction of Zol.

The thin, teenage monk nodded and disappeared down one of the hallways.

“I have to get packed up,” Lhandon said as he began going through some of the notes he had taken. He took an orange leather brief from a bookshelf and started placing the notes inside.

“I have a bag as well,” I said, nodding to the bag with my robes and it.

“We will probably need a larger pack, but I’m sure they have something around here.”

The monk Lhandon had sent to communicate with Sukhbat returned carrying a sizable backpack with him. “The Precious Heart Gem would like an audience with you in fifteen minutes,” he said, “in the prayer room.”

“Thank you,” Lhandon said with a bow, the monk also returning his bow before disappearing again. “This will certainly help,” he said as he placed the leather brief in the backpack that had been given to us. Lhandon also stuffed his old robes in there, as well as a clean set of saffron robes. “You have a fresh set, too,” he said, nodding to the bookshelf where I found that a set had been folded and set out for me.

Now in control of my breath, I stood and stretched my arms over my head, nodding for a moment with my eyes closed. What was done was done. I needed to move on. I took my fresh set of robes from the shelf, and the robes that I had worn back in Lhasa, and placed them in the backpack.

The door slid open and as it did Saruul slipped into the room, a canvas bag of fruit in her hands. “I came as quickly as I could,” she said.

“You were about to get left behind,” Roger scolded her.

“What happened? Why do we have to leave?”

“Nick’s buddy gave him an ultimatum: fight or leave. Nick chose to leave the city, with the caveat that he would be given an hour to leave before he was hunted down like a dog.”

“And we aren’t staying and fighting?” she said, her ears flattening.

“Not yet,” I said, looking up to her. “I need time to think this through. We’re going to go to Zol to search for the reincarnation of the Exonerated One. We can also try to find the relic.”

“Relic?” asked Lhandon.

“The treasure map that Nyima the sand spirit gave us.”

“Ah, yes.”

“What can I do to help?” Saruul asked.

“Do you have anything to pack?” Roger asked her. “Aside from a bunch of fruit?”

“No…”

“Then there isn’t much you can do. We are supposed to meet the head monk in a few minutes. So I guess we just wait for that,” Roger said.

“Maybe we should go now,” I suggested. “I know he said fifteen minutes, but the sooner we leave, the better.”

Lhandon nodded. “Let me go first, just to make sure that he is ready to see us.”

“You could have taken him,” Roger said as soon as Lhandon stepped out. “He’s not such a tough guy. He didn’t even have a weapon. You have the ability to stop time and you’ve got your handy fire sword. What could he have done?”

“It just all came as such a shock to me,” I admitted. “I wasn’t ready for that. I should have been ready.”

“It has happened to the best of us,” Roger said as he rose into the air and landed on my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Lhandon peeked his head back in. “The Precious Heart Gem will see us now.”

We made our way down the hallway to a room at the far end of the temple, the door already open. Sukhbat sat on a large pillow, his girthy legs folded beneath him, his two female consorts absent from the room.

There was a statue of a seated monk behind him, and it was only when we came into the room that I saw that the statue had been moved to the side, revealing a stairwell that led down.

“This isn’t the first time that someone from this monastery had to run from an Emperor,” he said with a chuckle. “Believe it or not, years ago, I had to run from the city as well. So I understand what you are going through.” Sukhbat looked to me with compassion in his eyes. “And I am glad to see that you made it here in one piece.”

“I did,” I told him, taking a seat, just as Lhandon had done. Saruul looked like she didn’t want to sit, but she did so anyway, Roger transferring from my shoulder to hers.

“I will make this brief as I know that time is of the essence. You have been given an hour, correct?”

“That’s right,” I told him.

“You will be fine,” he assured us with a grin that lifted his jowls. “There are two passageways in the tunnel that runs beneath this monastery. If you head into the passageway on the right, you will go toward the port. If you head to the left, you will go toward the city of Zol. It won’t take you all the way there, of course, but it will deposit you a few hours outside our city, where you will be much safer. From that point, just follow the Blue Path. Like the path through the jungle from Anand, the trees are marked. From there, it should take a day or so to reach Zol.”

One of the monks quietly made his way into the room with food that had been packed in dried palm fronds. He approached Lhandon, who took off the bag he’d been given, the monk placing the food inside. From there, the monk slipped his hand into the pocket at the front of his robes and retrieved several promissory notes.

“That should be plenty of money to get you to Zol and set you up right once you get there. I suspect you will search for your reincarnated master, yes?”

Lhandon nodded. “Among other things.”

“And I’m assuming that at some point in the future, you will be back in Ganbold to challenge your old friend?” Sukhbat asked.

I bit my lip as I looked at the large monk. “Likely.”

“Then I wish you the best of luck. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to return to our temple when you come back to the city as it would put the monks here in danger. But please know that you do have our support, and while we don’t have a way of helping you aside from providing you safe passage away from Ganbold, there will be things that we may be able to help you with in the future.”

“Thank you,” I said as Lhandon’s backpack was sealed up.

“We should be going,” Lhandon said as he got to his feet and bowed again at Precious Heart Gem. Saruul and I did the same, Roger also bowing graciously, one of his turquoise wings swept before him.

With Lhandon in the lead, we took a long stairwell down, reaching a dark passageway that smelled of wet stone. I was about to go for my Flaming Thunderbolt when Lhandon’s hand illuminated, revealing a fork in our path, just as Sukhbat had told us.

Lhandon turned to me. “We can still escape,” he said under his breath.

“No, Roger and Saruul are right. We have to fight back, but not just yet. I need some time to think this through.”

“We are definitely trapped down here now,” Roger said as we heard the sound of stone scraping against the wooden floor above us. The entrance to the secret passage was sealed off, Lhandon’s illuminated hand now casting shadows onto the stone wall.

“What’s that?” Lhandon asked.

“He says we are trapped down here.”

“No, we aren’t,” Lhandon said with a grin as he turned to the left passage. “Darkness always before the light. Remember that, Roger. Have faith. You too, Nick. We will make it through this.”

We came out through a waterfall, where we were instantly swarmed by a cloud of gnats. It was warm out, humid too.

“Ugh,” Saruul said, waving her hand in front of her face.

I noticed a bright yellow crocodile slip into the water and I grabbed her arm, dragging the lioness to the shore.

Lhandon had already made it there, Roger in the air.

“I’ve got him,” he said, bravely swooping down on the crocodile, and flapping his wings against the water. The crocodile came up to snap Roger out of the air, but the tropical bird was too fast, zipping out of the way and doubling back around to squawk at the predator.

“That was close,” he said as he touched down on my shoulder. I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, waiting to see if the crocodile would come out of the water. It didn’t, and once I was sure that we were fine to move on, I slipped my weapon back in its scabbard.

“Follow the trees that are painted blue,” Lhandon said, taking the lead.

“We may have to transition to the jungle later,” I said, figuring it would be a better way to avoid any of Hugo’s patrols.

“Nonsense,” Lhandon told me. “I have a rune that will help us if we come to a rest stop, and certainly when we reach Zol.”

“I can’t believe your friend has called for your death,” Saruul said as we came to the next tree, its trunk partially painted blue. I saw movement in the canopy above and I looked up to see a sloth with white fur, its bulbous eyes watching us move past.

“He was possessed,” Roger said suddenly. “And what did I tell you about looking at sloths? Did I ever say anything about those lazy fuckers? Anyway, I know we have spoken about Hugo being possessed before, but it was clear to me in there. You saw his eyes, right?”

I nodded. “And the snake’s eyes on the crown he was wearing. Perhaps it has something to do with that.”

“You think he was possessed?” Lhandon asks, picking up context clues.

“It’s just not him,” I said. “I know that we have seen things here that are unimaginable, but this isn’t who Hugo is. Something else is at play. Maybe it’s one of the relics, or a demon. I don’t know. But I’m going to do something about it.”

“We will do something about it,” Saruul said. “I’m not letting you go back there alone.”

Lhandon laughed. “You really do have a good support network around you, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware,” I said, unable to fight the smile forming on my face.

I was over the shock I had experienced earlier in seeing Hugo; I knew what needed to be done now, and it was only a matter of time before I returned to the capital city to do it.

As we walked, I thought of the future confrontation, and how I would go about handling myself. I would work under the assumption that he was possessed, and if we ended up fighting, which I was starting to feel was a certainty, I would do my best not to kill him.

“Whew,” I said under my breath as I wiped my brow with my arm; it had already been a day and it wasn’t even noon.

There had also been the revelation of my power when used in conjunction with Ra-Mu, the rune Lhandon had taught me. It was something I would have to place on the back burner, at least for a little bit. It was promising, but I needed to be able to actually set the time to which I returned.

Only then would it be useful.

“It’s times like these that I wish we had the trance-walking power,” Lhandon said, referring to a fast travel ability we had discussed back in Dornod with Jigme the lion monk. “When we return to Lhasa, we will have to take Jigme up on his offer to take us to Lion’s Peak to the hermit who is familiar with the ability. That is, if Jigme’s scouts have been successful in reaching him.”

“That would make things easier, but I don’t know how we would do it in the jungle,” I said.

“We wouldn’t have to do it in the jungle. We would do it up there,” Lhandon said, nodding up toward the canopy.

“You mean we would be jumping from tree to tree?” I asked him.

“Finally, you guys would be able to travel like me,” Roger chimed in.

“Not exactly jumping. More like flying, but in a levitational way, if that makes sense.”

“Let’s just focus on getting off this island,” Saruul said. “We still have plenty of plans as it is.”

“That we do,” Lhandon told her.

We only came across one merchant in our six-hour journey, Saruul sensing him and giving us enough time to slip into the jungle. Eventually, we neared another mom-and-pop rest stop, this one covered in vines and clearly not large enough to house more than a few people.

“I will handle this,” Lhandon said, tracing something with his finger. “Nick, I want you to think of someone that you have seen in the past day.”

“Someone that I have seen?”

“Someone, anyone. What’s the first image that comes to your mind?”

“I…”

Oddly enough, the first image that came to my mind was the guard at Hugo’s palace, the one who initially given us such a hard time. I imagined his crappy mustache, the acne on the side of his face.

“Do you have someone in mind?” he asked.

“I do,” I said.

“Good, then keep that person in mind while I trace this rune.” Lhandon moved his fingers, and as he did, Saruul gasped.

“What have you done to him?” she asked, pushing the monk aside as she came to me. She touched my chest and took a few steps back, not processing what her eyes were seeing. “But it feels…”

“That is some crazy shit,” Roger started to say.

“The rune disguises your face for anyone who looks at you. The face you are currently wearing is based on whatever face you were thinking of when the rune was cast,” Lhandon explained jovially. “But in actuality, you are still yourself, you are still Nick and you still look the same way. It’s an illusion.”

“Can you teach it to me?” I asked him.

“It is quite complicated,” he said, “and it involves a string of characters that you have yet to learn. Perhaps one day, but for now, I believe I will be the only one able to cast it.”

I glanced at my hands and saw that they were normal.

“Just your face,” he reminded me. “It lasts for about thirty minutes, but I can use it multiple times. I believe this rune will be helpful to us in our journey going forward.”

“It’s so bizarre,” Saruul said as she pinched my cheek. “Even his face feels like his normal face, but it looks like… Who is this person that you became?”

“I recognize him!” Roger said. “He’s one of the guards that was at the front of Hugo’s palace.”

“Bingo.”

“Bingo?” Lhandon asked.

“It means ‘Roger is right.’ Well, sort of.”

The monk nodded. “Then bingo it is! For now, Hugo doesn’t know about the rest of us, just you and the bird.”

“He knows about Saruul…”

“He does?” she asked. “You didn’t tell us that.”

“He had already received a report from the rest stop we had to escape from.”

The lioness bit her lip. “I see…”

“I don’t think we have much to worry about,” Lhandon said, “at least not yet. Once we get to Zol, we will have to be more cautious.”

“As long as someone is giving me a shoulder to rest on, I’m fine with that,” Roger said.

Saruul stepped away from me, finally comfortable with looking at my temporary face.

Lhandon rubbed his hands together. “Now come, let’s get a room for the night and eat before the rune wears off.”

The rest stop just happened to have one available room, with enough futons to sleep three people. The couple that ran it were kind but quiet, and rather than cook with us as our last hosts did, they merely set out dried fruits and fish, a buffet of sorts.

We ate and retired to our room, even though the sun hadn’t quite set. The floor had been made of clay which was cool against my bare feet. Purple drapes hung in front of a small window on the opposite side of the room, letting in just a sliver of light. Other than our futons and drapes, the room was completely bare.

“Who is interested in meditating?” Lhandon asked.

“Not me.” Roger fell to the ground, pretending he was asleep.

“Of all of us, you are the one who needs meditation the most,” Saruul said, nudging Roger with her foot.

“Can’t a bird sleep?” he asked, pretending to snore.

Lhandon laughed. “No one is forcing you to meditate, Roger.”

“So you understand what he is hinting at?” I asked the portly monk.

“I’m starting to think that he is a little sarcastic. Am I right?”

“Guilty as charged,” Roger said, raising his wing and then slapping it against the ground again.

“Well, feel free to sleep, Roger, but since we do have some daylight left, a good meditation session would be a nice way to wind down, just like we were doing on the ship,” Lhandon said. “We can follow up with prostrations if you’d like, but personally, I prefer doing them in the morning.”

“I’m with you there,” I said as I sat on the folded futon.

“I’m not tired yet, and meditation always makes me sleepy,” Saruul said, “so I think I’ll join you as well.”

“Delightful,” Lhandon said as he arranged a seat in front of us. “There’s a new meditation I would like to try out, something that I read about in one of the books at the Temple of Ocean Sky. I recall practicing a similar meditation years ago, when one of the hermits came down from the mountains. It is quite engaging.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said as I settled into my position, cupping my hands together.

We started by warming up, Lhandon instructing us to take deep breaths, to hold each breath for a moment, and let them out slowly. I started to get into the rhythm of his voice, breathe in, hold, breathe out, feeling almost hypnotized by the practice.

Once we had warmed up, Lhandon began speaking: “How do you visualize your mind? Where does your mind exist? There have been many treaties about this, with some monks arguing your mind is in your head, and others arguing it is in your heart. Still, others argue that it is omnipresent, in every part of you that exists within and without you. The reason I ask this is because I want you to visualize your own mind.”

My first instinct was to visualize my brain.

I imagined my brain in my skull, instantly questioning why I assumed that this was where my mind was located. I then tried to visualize my mind in my heart, but it didn’t seem to work the same as conceptualizing it as a brain.

I tuned back into what Lhandon was saying:

“However you see your mind, if you see it in its physical form or as a ball of light, I want you to imagine yourself stepping outside of it. Yes, imagine as if you were in your mind, and suddenly you are standing next to it, looking at it.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to notice the first thought that slips out of your mind, and rather than catch it and start analyzing it, I want you to let it go, let it fade into the background. Again, you are visualizing that you are standing next to your mind, that you are observing it. I don’t want you to think. I want you to see.”

The first thought to come out of my mind was something about Hugo, and rather than examine it, I simply let it filter away. I visualized my mind as if it were a brain, one about the size of a Volkswagen beetle, strangely enough. I stood next to it, watching another thought come out of it, this one about my ability to control time.

My thoughts resembled a flat, paper-thin LCD screen, or maybe it was more of a projection, but either way, I knew what they were, and I knew that it was time to temporarily discard them.

I was concentrating so hard at this point that I could no longer hear Lhandon speaking.

I merely watched the thoughts pour out of my own brain, happy to be away from them for once, happy to be at ease.

“It sure is interesting here,” Dema said, appearing before me, her white hair lifting and settling around her face and neck.

I sat in a small garden behind the Crompton Collective, the building an example of the urban revival currently happening in Worcester, Massachusetts. I was dreaming, that much I could tell, but this hadn’t stopped me from being overwhelmed by the beauty of the old brick building, the moss scaling up its exterior the color of evergreen and maraschino cherries.

I had already wandered through the maze-like collection of vintage and antique stores, all of which featured items of my childhood. The piece that struck me the most was a large pile of sand with a Steinway piano at the top, the keys all rotted away.

I’d even tried to play one of the black keys, the key turning to dust.

But now my focus was entirely on Dema, my dakini, the strange being from the Overworld who had been part of my journey since the start.

“Have you gone inside?” I asked her, nodding to the back entrance to the Crompton Collective. A wind picked up, twirling red and orange leaves between us.

“I have not, but I’m sure I will have plenty of time to explore,” she said, a soft smile lifting her elven ears. Dema wore silver robes tied off at the waist by a golden rope, and as she took a step closer to me, her sleeves began to grow in length.

As she reached her hand up to me, the ends of her sleeves fluttered away, swirling until her entire arm was made of thousands upon thousands of pixels of light.

“What are you doing?” I asked her, instinctively moving away from her. I placed my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, fearing that this was the start of a nightmare.

“You will face many challenges in the coming days,” she told me, sadness behind her eyes. “I want to give you something that will help you, something that will give you an advantage when facing off against a demon, be it one that now calls the Middle Plane their home, or one that has come directly from the Underworld.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her as her shoulder started to filter away.

“Draw your weapon, Nick,” she said.

I did as instructed, flames licking off my blade.

“We won’t be meeting for some time,” Dema said as she placed her light-filled hand onto my blade, balls of fiery white oscillating around her wrist.

As she did so, my perspective shifted. Dema tilted her head toward it and was instantly sucked up into the weapon. White fire sparked off the blackened steel of my blade, the ivory flames lifting higher and higher until they were nearly as tall as the brick building I stood next to.

“Dema?” I asked as the flames began to lower, cosmic energy whirling around the base of my weapon.

I am here now, Nick. It is my gift to you. Enjoy the rest of your slumber.

Chapter Fifteen: Demons in the Courtyard

My initial instinct upon waking was to go for my sword. I was the first one up, and as I drew my blade I noticed a white spark move along the edge of the flames. It reached the tip of my weapon and spiraled backward, settling in with the orange and blue fire licking off the blackened steel.

“What the hell?” Roger asked, shielding his eyes.

“Nick?” Lhandon asked, coming awake at the sound of Roger’s voice. This woke Saruul, who was up in a crouching position before Lhandon could even roll over.

“Why do you have your weapon drawn?” she hissed.

I shook my head. “Am I the only one that’s seeing this?” I returned my blade to its sheath. I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt once again, noticing the white spark of energy moving to the tip of the blade and back down to the hilt as I held my weapon in the air.

“What has happened to your sword?” Lhandon asked.

“So, you see it too?”

“Are you talking about the white energy? We all see it,” Roger said, turning back over. “It’s too goddamn early to be awake.”

“I was visited by Dema in my dream…” I began.

“Your dakini?”

I nodded at Lhandon. “She said she was going to merge herself with my weapon to help me in the fights to come.”

Saruul gasped. “Your weapon has been blessed by a dakini?”

I returned my blade to its scabbard. “Apparently. I’m guessing it will help me when fighting against demons or other creatures from the Underworld. This means I would be able to fight alongside Bah-Mo.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of her!” Lhandon said, the portly monk now in a seated position with his legs crossed under his body. “While I would like to say something along the lines of hoping that we don’t encounter such creatures again, I know that would be a foolhardy thing to say.”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think things will turn out that easy for us,” I admitted.

“Most certainly not.” He yawned. “Well, I suppose it is best if we begin our journey then. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there.”

“Let Roger sleep for a little bit longer,” Saruul said. “Otherwise, he will be cranky.”

Roger made a sound with his throat. “No, I won’t.”

“He seems like he’s awake to me,” I said, starting to grin.

“Still, let’s give him a little bit longer,” the lioness said as she made her way to the door. “I will bring breakfast for both of you.”

She was just sliding the door shut when Roger called out to her: “Don’t forget to bring breakfast for me!”

“Is he pretending to sleep?” Lhandon asked, looking at the bird curiously, who was now lying on his belly, facing away from us, a few turquoise feathers sticking up from the back of his head as if he had a mohawk.

“That he is.”

After breakfast, Lhandon cast the rune that disguised my features, the four of us continuing on our journey.

Aside from Roger’s complaining and long-winded stories, the next leg of our journey was rather uneventful.

We walked and walked, Lhandon occasionally launching into a story about a famous monk. He told us about Milarepa and how he once used a song to soothe a demon horde, and he went into detail about a monk named Jamgon Kongtrul and a commentary he wrote called The Encompassment of All Knowledge.

It was still humid out, but the jungle’s canopy provided plenty of shade, which at least cut the heat down some. There were more rivers in this part of the jungle as well, giving us plenty of water.

It was late afternoon when the four of us came to a rest stop that was suspiciously silent.

As we approached it, I instinctively brought my hand to my Flaming Thunderbolt.

“Are you sensing something?” I asked Saruul, whose ears had flitted back, her tail rising.

“I smell blood,” she finally said.

“I’ll check it out,” Roger said, lifting off my shoulder.

As he flew toward the rest stop’s fenced-in courtyard, a shadowy tendril shot into the air, striking Roger in the face.

I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt and ran toward the courtyard, Lhandon and Saruul on my heels.

I gasped as I came to realize that all the guests and the owners of the rest stop had been slaughtered, their bodies piled, many of their limbs missing, the furniture in disarray, and the inside of the walls streaked with bloody handprints.

My eyes jumped from the stack of bodies to a pair of enormous shadowy forms, their eyes glowing white.

Teeth began to emerge from one of the forms, and it was just about to chomp down on Roger when I screamed forward, charging the demon with my blade over my head.

I swiped at it, the shadowy entity zipping away, its counterpart doing the same.

“Careful!” Lhandon shouted to Saruul, the monk now standing before her.

“I’ve got this,” I said, quickly tracing Bah-Mo.

The armored, semi-translucent monkey with two scimitars started to form, and as soon as he did, he looked to me, then down to my blade.

Bah-Mo nodded.

From there, the monkey was airborne, and not a moment too soon.

One of the shadow entities came down only to be met by Bah-Mo’s two blades, which the monkey had crossed in front of his body. He bounced away from the shadow spirit, returning with a spinning kick followed by several strikes from his glowing scimitars.

I charged the other shadow demon, who had pulled a blackened sword made of the same dark material as its body.

Our weapons met, both of us forced backward.

The demon tried to come at me again but I managed to parry its attack, bringing my Flaming Thunderbolt against its shoulder.

The demon cried out in anguish as jet black blood dripped from the fresh wound to the tile of the courtyard.

I mentally triggered my time ability, and as I did everything came to a standstill.

I noticed that Saruul had transformed, the lioness midair as she went to rescue Roger. I also saw Lhandon’s hands glowing blue, the monk ready to do anything he could to fight back. I knew I didn’t have long to deliver a finishing blow to the demon, so rather than look over my shoulder to see how Bah-Mo was faring, I stepped behind the demon and drove my blade through its back.

Time returned to its normal pace and the demon screamed out, more of its inky blood spritzing the air.

But rather than die, it swiveled and struck me hard in the face.

I flew backward, my blade now stuck in its body.

“Shit…” I said, watching as Bah-Mo was driven into the ground. The second demon lifted him again and slammed the monkey down again.

I traced the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes and I got to my feet. I looked to the stack of bodies, and from there to my friends, Saruul now with Roger in her mouth.

“You have this,” I said under my breath as I rolled up my sleeves.

Both of the shadowy demons turned to me, and while they didn’t have faces, I could tell they were grinning, even the one that had my blade sticking out the front of its body, fire now spreading up to its shoulders.

With a short breath out I charged forward, knowing instantly what I needed to do.

I avoided a sharp tendril, triggering my time ability at the last moment, stepping under a scythe-like blade moving through the air.

Knowing that my own fire couldn’t hurt me, I wrapped my hands around the end of my weapon and tugged it through the first demon’s body. But while the flames didn’t burn me, the blade definitely cut deep, my palms drenched in blood by the time I got my Flaming Thunderbolt flipped around, my hand on its hilt again.

I wondered briefly why my ability to absorb strikes hadn’t stopped this from happening. Was the rune really self-aware enough to know what an actual strike was versus self-harm?

Time sped up.

As if I were swinging a baseball bat, I took a swipe at the first demon, bloodied palms and all, managing to take what I assumed was its head.

A hissing sound met my ears as it stumbled and fell to the side, and as it was getting up, Bah-Mo landed on top of the fallen demon, the monkey furiously stabbing both of his scimitars into the demon’s back.

I turned my attention to my second shadowy opponent, just as its arms began forming into two monstrous blades.

“Okay, okay,” I told it, nodding, the adrenaline surging through me by this point. It spun toward me as if it were a whirling dervish.

I barely managed to block its first and second attacks.

Its third attempt connected with my shoulder, no pain whatsoever aside from my bleeding palms as I absorbed the hit.

I used this opportunity to lunge for the demon, able to take a nice chunk out of the side of its body. I ducked just in time to avoid another strike, and came up again, bringing the tip of my sword directly into the center of its chest.

A skull-shaped face began to form in the blackness, the demon screaming at me as I started to bring my blade down. It tried to hit me again but I held strong, its eyes igniting with a purple fire, its teeth razor-sharp.

Suddenly, it lost steam.

The shadowy demon dropped to its knees, my blade still in its chest. And rather than pull it down this time I yanked my blade up, taking it out through the top of the demon’s head and splitting it in two.

I fell to my knees, suddenly losing my strength. The demon was clearly dead, and as I looked over my shoulder I saw that Bah-Mo had finished the other one off as well.

I glanced at my other palm and saw just how deep my cut had gone.

All the way to the bone.

As Saruul and Lhandon came to me, I traced the rune that allowed me to heal, my bloodied hands instantly repairing themselves.

“Heal Roger,” Saruul said, handing me the bird.

I waved my hand over him, and as I did he started to come awake, his eyes going wide.

“What in the…?” Roger lifted into the air, surveying the damage, from the now-fading demons to the stack of bodies in the courtyard. “Holy hell! What did I miss?”

“That was unexpected…” I said, waving goodbye to Bah-Mo, who merely nodded at me, stoic as ever.

“We have to do something about these bodies,” Lhandon said. “We can’t just leave them here; it’s disrespectful.”

“That’s a lot of bodies,” Roger said as he touched down onto Saruul’s shoulder. “Is the monk being serious?”

I nodded. “Let’s see if any of them are alive first. Perhaps I can still heal someone. If not…”

“Hopefully, they have a shovel around here,” Lhandon said.

“Yeah,” I said, steeling myself. “Hopefully.”

Chapter Sixteen: Alone Time

Lhandon said a prayer before the fresh mounds, seven bodies in total, all maimed in horrific ways. It was approaching night now, and while we had discussed trying to reach Zol, it was looking increasingly like we would be staying.

“What a shitty way to go,” Roger said, shaking his head after Lhandon was finished.

“It really is,” I said.

“And now we have to stay in this haunted rest stop,” the bird lamented. “Demons already like coming here; the ramshackle courtyard is practically an open invitation for them to come and get a piece of our asses.”

“It’s not haunted yet,” Saruul said. “And no demon wants a piece of your little bird ass.”

“Speak for yourself!”

“Is there a specific amount of time it takes for a ghost to start haunting?” I asked, not able to contain the grin stretching across my face.

“Is someone afraid of ghosts?” Lhandon asked, turning to us. “And what is this I’m hearing about demons wanting body parts?”

“The bird. It is always the bird.”

“I’m not afraid of ghosts; I just don’t want to be haunted by one,” Roger said. “This is just common sense in the bird community. And I’ve heard demons go straight for the ass, that it’s the easiest way to possess someone.” He swooped one of his wings up and made a whistling noise. “Right up the birdhole and straight into an unsuspecting person’s soul.”

Saruul rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Roger…”

“I’m being serious!”

“Okay, ghosts aside, if we aren’t going to try to make it to Zol tonight, we should at least make ourselves comfortable here.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lhandon asked me, licking his lips. “It has been a while since we’ve eaten, and it was more work than I had anticipated burying all these bodies, gruesome work, I might add.”

“One step ahead of you.” Saruul turned to the dining area of the rest stop.

“It has already been decided then,” Lhandon said, joining her. “It will be better for us to stay here for the night than to venture through the jungle. Nick, if you would, please keep guard while Saruul and I prepare a meal.”

“Sure thing,” I said, turning to the entrance of the rest stop.

“They sure know how to make you useful, don’t they?” Roger said after they were gone.

“I’m not stressing about it. Besides, Lhandon’s a good cook. You already know that.”

“I still think there’s something evil about this place,” Roger said as he landed on my shoulder. “That’s why the demons attacked.”

“There’s really no reason why demons would attack a rest stop in a jungle in the middle of nowhere. I wish there was a better explanation for it, but there it is.”

“Maybe they were looking for us,” Roger said.

“Aside from that explanation. It’s definitely possible, but if that is the case, why wouldn’t they just attack us wherever we were, rather than slaughtering the people here.”

“Well if you want me to get creative…” The bird ruffled his feathers for a moment. “Okay, hear me out: maybe there’s a demon hole here somewhere on the island. Maybe. You know what? That doesn’t sound right. I can’t imagine demons coming up out of a hole, and the term itself is way too salacious. Then again, if I were a demon, and I had my choice between here and a cold place, or an absolutely shitty place like the Great Plateau, I’d probably choose here.”

“Good to know,” I said as I watched a monkey land on the outer wall of the rest stop. It crouched there for a moment, looking over to us, its eyes reflecting the orange of the setting sun.

“I’ll handle this,” Roger said as he took off, aimed directly at the monkey. He flapped his wings as he approached the creature, the blue-faced monkey hissing and scurrying off.

Roger returned to my shoulder.

“Little fuckers carry diseases, but you probably already knew that.”

“I did not.”

“Just don’t pet one.”

“I’ll be sure not to.”

“You know, it wouldn’t be so bad being a guard out here,” he said, taking another look around the place. “It’s a simple life, but sometimes those are the best kind.”

“I thought you didn’t like the type of jungle they have on this island.”

“It’s growing on me.” Roger hopped a bit closer to my ear. “I’ve adjusted to the humidity, and they have juicier insects here too. I don’t know if you’ve seen me, but whenever you aren’t looking, I am generally off getting myself a little snack.”

“I’ve noticed,” I told him.

“So you think I’ve gained weight?” he asked, concern in his voice as he patted his belly with his feathers.

“I have no idea.”

Movement in the distance caught my attention as an older man and a young girl came to our gate. The man wore a kurta and a necklace made of seashells. The girl had dark bangs that had been cut to wrap around her face, chubby cheeks too.

“We’re closed this evening,” I called over to them. “Sorry.”

“Please, sir, if you have a room, any room. My granddaughter and I were planning to make it back to Zol today, but she ran off into the jungle while I was, ahem, relieving myself.”

“I saw a monkey, Grandad!”

“Yes, Buka, you saw a monkey, and because of the time it took for me to find you in the jungle, we are now running late. Your mother is going to be so worried.”

“I already said I was sorry…”

“They could be demons,” Roger said as I approached the gate, my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt.

“You have a bird?” the young girl asked. “He’s a pretty bird too!”

Roger perked up. “You’re goddamn right I’m a pretty bird.”

“Like I said…” I looked back at the two-story rest stop, realizing that there were plenty of available rooms, especially after what had happened. An idea came to me. “You said you were from Zol, correct?”

“That’s correct; I run a small chung brewery there with my daughter. This is my granddaughter, Buka. The name is Amraa. We’re just looking for a safe place to stay tonight, even if it is in the servant’s quarter, or a closet, or basement, anything you can spare will do.”

“Give me one moment,” I said as I turned away from the older man and his granddaughter. I met Lhandon in the kitchen, who was busy cutting up carrots, Saruul bringing water to boil.

“Are you getting hungry yet?” Lhandon asked me.

“We’ve got guests,” Roger said.

“What was that?” the monk asked.

“There’s an older man and his granddaughter at the gate,” I translated. “They would like to stay here for the evening. The man runs a brewery in Zol, and was on his way there when his granddaughter ran off into the jungle. It took him a while to find her, so they’re running a little bit behind.”

“What a bad little girl,” Saruul said.

“She’s cute though,” Roger told her. “And she has good taste in birds.”

“What are you proposing?” Lhandon asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I wanted to see if you would check to make sure they aren’t demons or malicious spirits.”

“Because screw those malicious spirits,” Roger chimed in.

Lhandon looked up at me. “You have the Rune of Inquiry power as well, Nick. Also, if they were malicious, you left them out there waiting for us.”

Roger snorted. “Shit, I didn’t even think of that!”

I frowned. “I’ve sort of forgotten about the rune. And regarding the old man and the girl, they didn’t seem dangerous.”

“It’s Ra-Lha,” he said, using the juice from a recently sliced root to trace the character on the cutting board. “And most trickster spirits don’t seem dangerous at first.”

“And how does it work again?” I asked, looking at the character. I could see “Ra” at the top in the form of a small circle, the rest of the character “Lha” with its square, the stem jutting out from the bottom of it, and the two slash marks.

“If a spirit lies to you, they become your servant until you release them, which was the same thing that happened to Gansukh the Ice Spirit. Because spirits and demons come from the same world, it should work on demons as well. You know what? I’ll just come with you.” Lhandon said as he set his knife down.

He wiped his hands on a towel and followed me to the front gate.

“Hello,” the older man called to Lhandon. “My name is Amraa, and this is my granddaughter, Buka. I was unaware that this rest stop was now being run by monks.”

“Temporarily,” Lhandon said. I saw him trace the rune out of the corner of my eye. He cleared his throat. “Amraa, are you a demon, spirit, or an entity from any other world other than the Middle Plane who hopes to cause harm to us?”

“That’s one way to do it!” Roger cackled. “Straight to the point. I can tell the monk is hungry.”

“Am I what?” Amraa shook his head in disbelief. “Are you asking if I am a demon?”

“That I am,” Lhandon said. “And if you would please answer me, it would be most appreciated.”

Amraa looked from his granddaughter back to Lhandon. “No, we are simply citizens of the Island Kingdom of Jonang. I have paperwork, if you would like to see it. I have paperwork for Buka as well.”

“People carry paperwork here?” I asked.

“It is one of Emperor Hugo’s new laws,” Amraa said with disdain. “It was why we went to the capital city, actually. We had the paperwork made in Zol, but then Buka here decided to test if it was flammable.”

“I’m sorry, Grandad!”

“But if you would like to see it,” the older man said as he reached into his shoulder bag.

“Nope, that will be fine,” Lhandon said, an earnest smile taking shape on his face. “We would be honored to have you as our guests tonight. There are some things you should know, however, before you stay here. But you know what? Before I tell you, I believe we could use some help in the kitchen. Specifically, I think we could use your help, Buka. Do you mind helping while I speak to your grandad out here?”

“I can be super helpful,” the young girl practically shouted. She jumped into the air, pumping her fists. She then realized she was being impolite, or at least she assumed she was, so she bowed her head, apologizing. “I always help Mom and Granddad in the kitchen of the brewery,” she said after her apology.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Lhandon said, nodding for me to open the gate. As soon as I did so, Buka pressed past me, sprinting toward the kitchen.

“I’d better go with her,” Roger said hurriedly, “just in case Saruul is feeling especially ravenous.”

Amraa and his granddaughter, Buka, turned out to be gracious guests. The young girl was actually helpful in the kitchen, and the older man was sympathetic to our cause. Of course, we hadn’t told him all the details yet, but he was aware that we had faced a little trouble from Emperor Hugo, whom he didn’t like, and that we had fought off the demons at the rest stop.

“Really, it is no trouble to me,” he said as Saruul brought a plate of chopped fruit to the table. There was something that looked like pineapple, although it was pink. There were also slices of blood oranges and a flower that Buka said was edible.

“You now understand what happened here,” Lhandon reminded Amraa, “so we’re not really doing you a favor or anything by letting you stay here. It isn’t our gift to give.”

“Not true. Had we walked up on this place, and had you not come before, who knows…” The elderly man swallowed a lump in his throat. “Who knows what would have happened. So for letting me stay here, you may stay in my place in Zol. We have a cottage, you know, behind the brewery.”

“It’s really too much,” Lhandon said. “We don’t want to bother you. Besides, there are the issues that I discussed outside with you, and the fact that we have people actively looking for us.”

“I would feel dishonored if you did not stay with us in Zol,” Amraa said firmly. “Unless you have another place, which doesn’t seem like you do.”

“We were going to go to the monastery…”

“The monastery!?” He frowned, a series of wrinkles stretching across his face. “I don’t know what the monasteries are like in the other cities you’ve been to on our island, but the one in Zol is a hotbed for iniquity, for monks that prey upon young women, and a head monk who preaches a terrible interpretation of the Path, if you ask me. No, you will stay with us. It is settled. As I said, we have a cottage at the brewery that we use for storage and for when family members come from Ganbold. Also, since you mentioned that being discreet was an important part of your journey, you should know that our brewery is on the outskirts of town, near a path at the base of the Bayan Mountains.”

“There are mountains there?” I asked as I chewed one of the flower petals. It was surprisingly sweet, almost reminding me of a Turkish delight.

“There certainly are. The only mountain range on the island, to be exact. The Bayan Mountains protect the city from some of the storms that come from the outer coast. The inner coast is generally fine, and you can see the beaches from many of the rooftops of our cities. How else can I describe it? Zol is very much nestled in the mountains, with views of the beach on one side, but the protection of the peaks on the other. I am biased, but I believe it is the most beautiful city in the Island Kingdom.”

“Good to know,” I told him as I took out the treasure map that Nyima had given me. “We received this map from a friend near Anand. Can you tell us anything about its location, or the complexity in reaching the place?”

“A map, huh?” he asked as I slid it across the table to him. As Amraa took a monocle from his shirt pocket and placed it over his right eye, I went for another flower petal. The elderly man looked at the map, licking his lips and squinting.

“What is it?” Buka asked, also chewing on a flower petal. “I want to see it!”

Saruul, who sat next to the young girl, reminded her to finish chewing before speaking.

“But I want to see the paper…”

“When do we get to put the kid to bed?” Roger asked. “She’s cute and all, but boy is she a little loudmouth.”

“You’ll be fine,” I told the bird. “And if you’re bored, you can go up to the room and sleep. We’re winding up down here anyway.”

“Who said anything about being bored? And sleep? It’s my job to stand guard.” He yawned, sticking his tongue out of his mouth, which caused Buka to laugh.

“Okay, then go outside and stand guard.”

“Fly guard, Nick. And I’m trying to get up the nerve to do it,” he admitted to me quietly. “I would prefer if you opened a window up there, so I could zip in and out. You know, sleep for an hour, guard for an hour.”

“Yes, I know exactly where this is,” Amraa finally said, removing his monocle. “There used to be a bridge that led to this particular ridge here.” He turned the map to me and tapped on it with his fingernail. “But it was destroyed by a terrible windstorm a few years back. There is another bridge here, but the locals don’t use that bridge.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“It is said to be protected by a terrible spirit. Most people just look at that particular mountain from a distance now; the locals are too afraid to actually scale it using the other bridge.”

“And there’s no other way to get here?” I asked, returning my focus to the map.

“I suppose we could get some climbing gear in town, if you are up for a steep climb.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Lhandon said. “Perhaps we can see about the bridge with the spirit on it. We do have ways to handle those types of entities, and it sounds like it would be doing the city of Zol a favor.”

“It will be dangerous,” Amraa told Lhandon. “But as you say, you do have ways to handle these things...”

“It’s really our only option at this point,” I told him. “Once we arrive and settle in, we can prep for the journey.”

Amraa nodded. “It would be an honor to help you.”

“And it would be an honor for us to accept any help you are able to offer,”  Lhandon told him, bowing his head. “And I will take your warning about the monastery to heart. Unfortunately, I still must visit the place as I’ve been told they have a copy of a rare book there that I would like to take a peek at. It is called Conversations with a Hellspawn.”

“I haven’t heard of it,” the man said as he ate an orange, “but if it’s a rare religious book, it’ll be there.”

“I’ve also been meaning to ask you about recent births in the city. I’m actually looking for someone in particular, a boy that was born without crying. Have you heard anything about that?”

“You mean a boy was born and he never cried a single tear?” Amraa asked.

“That’s what we were told.”

The old man thought about this for a moment as he ran his hands through a few scraggly hairs on his chin. “I would have to ask Sarnia, Buka’s mother. She runs the bar at our brewery, and if that’s the word that’s going around, she will have heard of it.”

“Can I go outside?” Buka asked, half a flower petal sticking out of her mouth.

“No, I think it’s best that you stay here,” her grandfather told her. “In fact, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Finish your flower, Buka. The sooner we leave tomorrow morning, the sooner we’ll be back in Zol.”

“I have to agree with your grandfather. I think it’s best if we all go to bed,” Lhandon said with a warm smile. “Let’s leave after an early breakfast and be done with this place.”

“Yes, and I can speak to some people I know in the city about what has happened here,” Amraa offered. “Of course, I won’t mention you three…”

“Four!” Roger squawked.

“I will only say that the rest stop looked like it was abandoned, and that I saw some graves. They will send representatives from the city, put the place up for auction. It is important that the stop is still here as it is the only one between this portion of the jungle and the city. There are a few small villages, but they’re generally off the beaten path.”

“People died?” Buka asked.

“Don’t worry about that, dear,” her grandfather said, patting the back of her head. “Come, let’s go upstairs.”

“I’ll help with the dishes,” I said as Saruul’s tail lightly grazed against my leg.

“I suppose I’ll head up to my bedroom then,” Lhandon said. “Roger, would you care to join me? Let’s give Nick and Saruul some alone time.”

“Alone time? You really want these two to procreate, don’t you? Fine, fine, even though you can’t understand me, I will come up there and keep you company. Nick, tell him to open the window when he gets in his room.”

“He wants you to open his window,” I told Lhandon as he made his way up the stairs.

“Certainly,” the monk called down to us.

Saruul and I waited a moment until we heard footsteps above us, some heavy and others light and swift.

“Finally,” Saruul said, exhaling audibly.

“Finally,” I agreed as she came into my arms.

“And we get a room to ourselves tonight,” she said after kissing me. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’ve been thinking what you’re thinking since we were stowaways on that ship. I hoped we would have more time to be alone together, but no.”

“Especially with your bird,” she said as she turned to the sink and began washing the dishes. I came up behind her and placed my hands on her stomach, kissing the side of her neck. She grazed her tail against the front of my robes. “Someone has missed me,” she purred.

“I really have.”

“Let’s clean up, then go upstairs and…”

“Sounds like my kind of evening,” I said as I continued to hold onto her waist.

“You have to let go of me so I can clean,” she said, her tail grazing me again.

“If you say so…”

Chapter Seventeen: Bully Monks

Needless to say, I slept like a baby after my night with Saruul, happy for the privacy, glad to have a moment to escape from all this madness.

But the morning brought its own share of worries, all coming from my overcalculating mind. So I did what I had increasingly learned to do when faced with a stressful moment.

I meditated.

Sitting with the bed behind me, I practiced the technique that Lhandon had taught us the other night.

I stepped out of my own mind and observed each thought as they came. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop from going over my encounter with Hugo, even feeling my heart flutter as it had in his throne room.

I was going to have to fight him at some point.

It was inevitable. And it was going to be brutal.

I accepted this and moved on.

Then there was what happened in the courtyard the previous morning, my ability to reverse time. How would I be able to use this in a way that was to my advantage? Would it be possible to learn to control it?

Control.

Release control.

My thoughts silenced themselves for a couple minutes, before a new one surfaced, bubbling out of my brain, visible from my current perspective from the outside looking in.

Once I handled Hugo, I would have to again turn my focus towards figuring out a way out of this world. Perhaps it wasn’t the best choice for me, but I would like to have the option, and I would like for Bobby to have the option as well. Tom too, if he happened to be alive.

I pushed this thought away as well.

A purple light started to beam down on me and I focused on it, my mind finally coming to a screeching halt, everything peaceful for once.

Eventually, Saruul woke up and we had breakfast with Amraa and his granddaughter.

Lhandon came down halfway through breakfast, sweat on his brow, the monk clearly finished performing prostrations. Only Roger slept, the bird tired from a night of patrols.

After Lhandon led one more blessing over the graves, we set off for the city of Zol. Buka could be quite a handful, but with Roger around, she wasn’t able to get very far into the jungle if she did decide to run off.

He ended up flagging her down a number of times, allowing us to locate the young girl, her grandfather scolding her each time.

“But I saw a butterfly,” she moaned as she batted away a few of the flies.

All Amraa could do was grin. “What I wouldn’t give to be as distracted as you, little one.”

The foliage changed as we neared the city. Many of the leaves and flowers started to turn various hues of purple and maroon, some of them resembling the fall colors I had experienced every year in New England.

“The whole damn place turns purple this time of year,” Amraa explained as we circled around a small bend, the dirt path widening. The path had been recently cleared out, evident in the fresh rake marks on the ground.

“Should we use your rune?” I asked Lhandon.

“Not a bad idea,” he said. He was just about to trace it when Amraa stopped him.

“What does the rune do?” the elderly man asked.

“It disguises his face,” Lhandon told him.

Amraa considered this for a moment. “I have an even better idea: if we follow the stream up ahead, we’ll come around the backside of the brewery. This way, we can make things more discreet. You can save your rune for later, if you need to go into town. Besides, this is the more scenic route anyway.”

“Lead the way,” Lhandon said, bowing slightly.

Once we got to the point where I could see the start of the city on the horizon, we turned straight into the jungle, Amraa guiding us down to a babbling brook with vines taking it over, colorful frogs occasionally popping up out of the water, purple leaves floating past them.

There were signs of civilization around the stream, a basketful of discarded clothing, even a few strips of leather hanging over a low tree branch. But we didn’t see another soul as we came upon the backside of a brewery made from large stone slabs that had been cemented together with sparkling sand.

Buka ran off, screaming for her mother. She disappeared into a side door, laughing as she did so.

Amraa led us to a cottage at the back of the brewery which was an in-law suite of sorts, with its own outhouse, kitchenette, and several beds. “Please, relax for a bit while I talk to my daughter.”

“We certainly will,” Lhandon said, “and thank you for your hospitality.”

“I should say the same to you,” the old man said with a chuckle as he stepped out of the cottage.

“Whew! I could get used to this,” Roger said, falling onto a bed and claiming it for himself.

“There are three beds, and three humans,” Saruul reminded him. “How about I throw a pillow on the ground for you?”

“How about I throw a pillow on the ground for you?” he shot back. “Just turn into a tiger and sleep on the ground.”

She whipped her tail at him.

“Nick!”

“Call me a tiger one more time, I dare you,” she said, watching him fly around the room, eventually settling on a cabinet.

“Are you going to protect me, Nick?”

“You brought this one upon yourself,” I told him.

“It’s a small space, but it will do,” Lhandon said, ignoring their banter as he took a seat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him. “In an hour or so, I will go to the monastery with the hopes of reading and copying as much as I can from Conversations with a Hellspawn. Hopefully, the monks here aren’t as bad as Amraa has made them out to be.”

“And if they are? Are you going to use your cold hands on them?” Roger asked.

I sat down on the bed next to Saruul, feeling an afternoon nap come on. I yawned, smiling at her.

Lhandon looked from Roger to me. “What did he ask?”

“He wants to know what you will do if they are bad,” I translated.

The monk slowly pressed himself up from the floor. “I’m sure they will be fine.”

Lhandon returned an hour or so later, Saruul and I waking up from a nap once he entered the room.

The monk paced back and forth as he tensed his fists, an enormous frown on his face. He turned to me and I saw that the side of his face was red.

“What happened?”

“Come on, guys, I was trying to sleep,” Roger said, who was sprawled out on the bed next to us, his wings wide.

“Those…” Lhandon swallowed hard. “Not only did they trick me, but they also attacked me!”

“They?” Saruul asked as she sat up.

“The monks at the monastery here. They were kind to me at first, but then they turned ruthless rather quickly. I explained to them that I merely wanted to see the book, and they even showed it to me, if you can imagine that! Then one of them came around while I was just about to look at it and punched me in the side of the face.”

“A monk punched you?” Roger asked, turning his head toward Lhandon. He rolled over and hopped up, the bird popping out his chest feathers. “Because if that’s the case, you show me where those dirty bastards are. Nick, give me my fucking knife. I will handle this.”

“Before we go around stabbing monks, let me better understand what happened here. So they actually brought the book out to show you, right?”

“They gave me tea and everything,” Lhandon said, answering my question. “I hope it wasn’t poisoned!”

He patted his belly for a moment, trying to judge if he was going to be sick or not.

“You’d probably know by now if it was poisoned,” Saruul told him. “Get back to the part where the monk struck you.”

“Yes, I was just about to look at the book when this monk with a scar on his face came out of nowhere, and punched me in the side of the face.”

“A scar-faced monk?” Roger clucked.

“I fell to the ground and then they started kicking at me. The only reason I got away was because…” He lifted his hand, an icy cold spark of energy spiraling around. “They didn’t like that.”

“Do you think they’re looking for you?” I asked, nodding to the door.

“I don’t believe so.”

“Bully monks, eh?” Roger asked. “Oh please, please be a reality. Nick, my knife. Saruul, you know what to do.”

“What?” she asked him, raising an eyebrow at the small bird.

“Morph into a lion and let me ride you into battle. Let’s do this,” he said, walking back and forth on the bed now, his chest still puffed out.

“You got Roger excited,” I translated to Lhandon.

“No, we can’t do anything. We just have to let them be like that.”

“And leave your book behind? No. Nick, tell Lhandon to point me in the direction of the monastery,” Roger said. “I will take care of this.”

“You will?” I asked him, the bird clearly upset with how Lhandon had been treated.

“What’s he saying?”

“He wants you to point him in the direction of the monastery. He said he’s going to go ‘take care of things.’”

“Ask him what the book looks like,” Roger instructed me. “Time is of the essence here, people!”

“Take care of things? That’s not how…” Lhandon considered this for a moment. “I suppose the book may still be out. And all the windows were open…”

“See?” Roger asked, cackling at Saruul. “This guy gets me. I’ll come into an open window, and pluck the book off whatever it’s resting on. Then poof, I’m gone. They will never know. I mean, they will probably suspect it has something to do with the monk that they assaulted earlier, but who’s gonna believe a tropical bird flew in and took a book? I know I wouldn’t believe that shit.”

“Wait, are you suggesting stealing the book?” I asked Lhandon. “Because that’s totally not like you.”

“I’m not suggesting stealing it,” he said, his cheeks turning red. “I would like to borrow it and copy some of the passages. Once I’m done doing that, I would most certainly return it.”

“So temporarily stealing it.” Saruul bit her lip, considering what Lhandon suggested. “I suppose I could help out in this endeavor.”

“How?” I asked.

“Can anyone else morph into a snow lion? I’m sure that will catch someone’s attention.”

“Is Roger even large enough to carry the book?” I asked Lhandon, still in disbelief at what they were suggesting.

“It isn’t a very large book, but it is thick. A black leather cover, and last I saw, it was open right there on the dais. Of course, they could have closed it by now, but some of the monks were resting in the main prayer room, looking like they had eaten a large lunch. Maybe they are still resting, and the monk that attacked me hasn’t put the book away yet.”

“Those are a lot of variables,” I pointed out.

“But if we could get a copy of it… I’m sorry,” Lhandon said, bowing to each of us individually. “I don’t know what has come over me. But I did get to see a few of the pages before I was struck, and I believe the information may help us. There may be runes in the book as well.”

“As long as we try to take it back, I don’t think we should worry about the karmic repercussions,” I said. “If anything, it won’t be you stealing it, it’ll be Roger.”

“And I have plenty of karma to go around.” The bird assured us. “You guys might not know this about me, but I was big into volunteering in the bird community. Actually, volunteering was part of a course I had to take at the school I attended, so I got credit for it. But I digress. My point? I have plenty of karma to spare. And trust me, I love stealing things from assholes.”

“He’s interested,” I translated for Lhandon. “But you didn’t say if you thought that he would be able to carry it or not.”

“He wouldn’t, but Saruul would. Perhaps we need to do this in a different way. Rather than have Roger take the book, maybe he could distract the monks momentarily while Saruul entered as a lion and took the book.”

“No, I want to be the one stealing the book,” Roger protested. “Remember the whole karma thing? What if Saruul distracts them, and then I dump the book into the bag, and then I fly the bag to the window and hand it off to one of you.”

“Roger, it’s probably best if I take the book,” Saruul said.

“And get it all slobbery? That’s not the way you treat a library book.”

“It isn’t a library book,” I reminded the bird.

“I don’t slobber,” Saruul added.

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay, what about this,” I said, telling them my idea.

Once I finished, Lhandon nodded, turning to Roger, who begrudgingly accepted that it wasn’t a bad idea.

We turned to Saruul, who merely shrugged. “If you three think it will work, I will help out in any way I can.”

“That settles it, Lhandon, cast your rune and disguise my face,” I said, jutting my chin out at him.

I envisioned Altan’s face, the former slave who was taking care of Bobby back in Dornod.

“It’s striking,” Lhandon said, looking me over. “Your memory of him is quite good. You even got the holes where his piercings used to be!”

“Thanks,” I said as I started to trace the rune that allowed me to heal.

Lhandon stopped me. “I would say save the rune until after we do this, just in case.”

“Right, just in case,” I said as I took one of our bags and emptied the contents onto the bed. I flung it over my shoulder, and headed to the door.

“I’m getting cold feet now,” the monk said as we left the small cottage.

We had been told by Amraa to leave as often as we liked, only that there would be a supper for us later in the brewery. As we walked around the brewery I waited for him to call out for us, or for Buka to run around and see us.

But they were busy inside and no one said anything as we came to the front gate, the rest of Zol laid out before us. There were mountains off to my left with great icy peaks. The city sloped downward to the right, toward an ocean miles and miles away, the sparkling blue water just barely visible.

All the trees had purple flowers and leaves, a few of the birds also bars of purple running through their tail feathers, something Roger readily commented on. Most of the buildings here were made of stone and a sand-colored cement, the rocks arranged together like misshapen Legos that somehow fit, the doors of many of the homes made out of polished driftwood.

It didn’t take us long to find the monastery with its golden pagodas. Lhandon merely stopped outside the walls, his back to the place.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Most definitely,” I told him as I stepped into the courtyard. I watched Roger take off to my left, Saruul moving off to the right.

I came into the prayer room, my eyes falling upon the dais, where I saw a black leather book still open.

Bingo.

Several monks rested on the benches, and one with a scar down the side of his cheek came over to me, a mischievous look on his face.

“I don’t recognize you,” he said, the man wearing a pair of large gold chains with jeweled monkey heads on them.

“And you don’t need to,” I told him, through gritted teeth.

Roger flew inside through an open window, immediately causing havoc as he knocked down candles and batted his wings against some of the resting monk’s faces.

The monk who had approached me turned to Roger, and as he did I traced Ra-Mu, the rune Lhandon had recently taught me.

Everything slowed while I sprinted toward the dais. Roger still moved in slow motion, the monks trying to stop him, one of them going for his cane to try to bat the bird out of the air.

I grabbed the book and stuffed it into my bag.

I quickly made it to the front door, where I put the bag in Saruul’s open arms, and then returned to my place next to the scar-faced monk.

Time returned to its normal pace, Saruul taking off behind me.

“That bird!” the scar-faced monk shouted, Roger zipping out a window.

“Don’t you just hate the birds around here?” I asked.

“I’ll deal with you later.” The man threw his hands up in the air and turned to yell at the monks who had stumbled over one another, one of them trapped in his own robes.

“No, no you won’t,” I said as I quietly stepped out of the monastery.

I met Lhandon and Saruul at the front gate, the lioness trying to keep from laughing.

“Did you get it?” Roger asked as he landed on my shoulder.

“You bet your ass I did,” I said as I patted my hand on the bag. “And I didn’t even have to cast Rune of Distortion, which was my backup plan.”

“Whew,” Lhandon said, sweating heavily now. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Eighteen: Reincarnation

The brewery had a cozy and comfortable interior, reminding me of a pub I once visited in Brattleboro, Vermont, that had a commanding view of the Connecticut River.

There wasn’t a river here, but the seating was similar, little clusters of circular oak tables and chairs with threadbare cushions on them. The lighting was just enough to allow for someone to recognize a person, but not see the pockmarks on their face, or the desperation in their eyes.

Buka’s mother, Sarnai, busied herself behind the bar, pouring up frothy mugs of chung. Meanwhile, Amraa prepared food in the back, a waitress occasionally checking on us and letting us know that our meals would be ready soon.

“Take your time,” Roger told her, even though the waitress didn’t understand him.

Saruul had poured a small amount of chung in a tiny saucer, Roger readily lapping it up. He seemed a bit wobbly now, occasionally hopping from foot to foot.

For once, I was enjoying a beverage, Saruul too, only Lhandon declining a mug of chung.

“So we set off tomorrow,” the portly monk said, a little distracted by the looks of his eyes.

He had spent the rest of the afternoon poring over the book we had borrowed from the local monastery, promising to go over some of his revelations with us once he was finished. It was already difficult to get him to actually stop his studies to eat, and I hadn’t really expected him to drink with us anyway.

“Going to get the treasure,” Roger said on the tail end of a hiccup. “Saruul, pour me up some more. I can handle it. I once drank three times my body weight!”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” the lioness asked as a trio of feather-haired women came into the brewery. They wore red capes, one with a staff and the other two with swords. The woman with the staff looked right at us and then glanced away.

“What did Roger say?” Lhandon asked.

“He’s excited about our journey tomorrow,” I translated.

“It’s going to be difficult,” Lhandon said, “especially considering the path we must take to reach the location of the relic. And just to be clear: I plan to finish up my search for the Exonerated One tomorrow. It is of the utmost importance that we find the reincarnation before we leave, and if it goes long, we may have to stay another day. So I may be up early.”

“Sure, first thing in the morning, but after that…”

“After that, we’re going to get ourselves some treasure!” Roger said, interrupting me. He turned to Saruul, begging her to pour some more chung before switching to threats. “Don’t make me drink out of your mug!”

“Just a little more, and that’s it,” she said, her nostrils flaring. “The last thing we need around here is a drunk bird.”

“I already have the pearls,” Lhandon said, placing his hand into the front of his robes. “I picked them up before going to the monastery earlier.”

He retrieved a small leather satchel, handing it to me. It felt like there were marbles inside, and when I opened it up, I found that the satchel was filled with black pearls.

“How is this supposed to work again?” I asked him as I took one out, examining it, the dim lights of the bar barely reflecting off the black pearl’s smooth surface.

“Since I lost the one that the Exonerated One had left in his ashes, which is something I’m still ashamed of,” Lhandon said, bowing his head to no one in particular, “I’m going to have to use these instead. If he really has rebirthed here, and I’m talking about a full rebirth, not just a partial spirit separation, then he will recognize that none of these pearls are his. It’s as simple as that.”

“And how are you going to find him?” Roger asked, suddenly interested in what Lhandon was saying. “There must be like a thousand little fuckers running around the city!”

The woman with the staff looked at us again. She quickly returned to her chung and the conversation she was having with her two companions.

“He’s asking you how you’re going to find the kid,” I translated.

“I’m supposed to meet with Sarnai in the morning. We’re going to have breakfast at a café across the city, and she’s going to take me to the family with the child who won’t cry after we’ve eaten.”

I glanced back behind the bar to see Sarnai pouring a couple mugs of chung. She handed the mugs off to a waitress wearing a short skirt and matching top, who then brought the beverages to a table on the other side of the room.

“I’m rather glad that we are waiting until tomorrow,” Lhandon said. “It will give me time to read more of Conversations with a Hellspawn tonight. I suppose I could sit at the bar and ask her questions, but breakfast will be nice. Breakfast is always nice.”

Saruul poured a saucer of chung for Roger. He hopped over to it and began drinking it down.

“Would you like company tomorrow?” I asked Lhandon.

“Certainly, if you don’t mind getting up early.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sleeping in tomorrow morning,” Roger announced to the table, chung flying out of his beak. “Especially if we’re going to be heading to the mountains in search of some hidden treasure!”

“Keep your voice down,” Saruul hissed.

“What? No one understands what I’m saying anyway.”

“I understand you,” I reminded him. “Saruul too.”

“But you aren’t people, you’re family!” Roger fell to the side, laughing so hard he would have slipped off the table had Saruul not caught him.

“Be careful.”

“Sorry, lioness,” Roger said, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“I’ve never seen an intoxicated bird before,” Lhandon said.

“I can’t say that I have either.”

Roger fell to his side again, staring at the saucer, occasionally asking Saruul to refill it.

Our food came, and as she often did when we were prepared meals now, Saruul was the first to sniff it, making sure there wasn’t poison.

“I don’t believe we have to worry about something like that here,” Lhandon said.

“You can never be too sure,” she reminded him.

The meals that Amraa had prepared for us consisted of a thick potato soup with shrimp in it, as well as a small slice of breaded mutton with a side of beans and potatoes. Saruul picked out all of her shrimp, giving them to me.

“I’ll have a shrimp, thank-you-very-much,” Roger said as he pressed himself back to his feet.

The lioness placed one in the saucer and he scarfed it down. From there he was back on his side, a happy smile on the bird’s face.

“Remind me never to let him drink again,” I said under my breath so only Lhandon could hear me.

The monk chuckled. “Sometimes it’s good to be off guard, and not have to worry about what others think. Let’s try not to judge him too much tonight.”

“I can’t guarantee anything,” Saruul said as she lifted her mug to mine. We clinked them together, and both finished our drinks.

The chung was a bit sour, almost like a fresh cider. It was also warm, which threw me off at first. As if the waitress had been watching us the entire time, she glided to our table immediately with two fresh mugs once ours were finished.

“Thank you,” Saruul told her.

“No need to refill after this,” I said, already feeling a bit lightheaded. “The stuff is strong.”

“It should be,” the petite woman told us. “This particular chung is brewed in a different way than what we normally serve. We considered it our top-shelf stuff,” she said with a flirty smile as she stepped away. “Amraa must really like you guys.”

“Top shelf it is,” Roger announced, the bird pressing himself back off the table. He lifted a wing into the air. “To treasure! To conquests! To Amraa! And to the white birds of Dornod…”

The bird face planted straight into the saucer. He rolled onto his side, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“Never again,” Saruul told me with a wry smile.

“Agreed.”

The rest of the night was uneventful, and the chung put Saruul, Roger, and me to sleep almost immediately. No dreams, but I did wake up once to check on my blade, and go outside to use the restroom.

That was another thing I was already having to get used to in the cottage behind the brewery. There was a single outhouse, and it was guarded by a horde of flies. It wasn’t a pretty place, and I was glad to get back to bed.

We had agreed for Lhandon to first go to breakfast with Sarnai, which gave me an extra hour to sleep, something I was thankful for when I briefly heard him getting up.

Nothing like an extra hour of sleep.

After they had eaten, the two returned to fetch me.

“We’re going over there now,” Lhandon informed me; Saruul waved for him to go away so she could sleep a bit longer. Roger briefly woke up, looked over to Lhandon with bloodshot eyes, glared, and turned to the other side.

“Just give me a second.” I sat up and ran my hand through my hair.

The alcohol was making me feel groggy, and I almost traced my Healing Hand power to cure myself of my hangover. But I knew that this would be a waste of the rune, especially considering what we would possibly face later that day, so I merely washed my face, drank a glass of water, ate an apple, and then joined Lhandon and Sarnai outside.

Sarnai had red skin, similar to some of the other townspeople. Her hair was braided and she was fit from her time spent behind the bar.

She was quiet too, not saying a word as we made our way to the opposite side of the city of Zol. We passed a man crouched on the ground before a carpet of painted seashells, a husband-and-wife team selling their fresh catches, a market full of odds and ends, a blacksmith, even a couple city guards, which made me glad that Lhandon had used his rune to disguise my features.

We eventually came to a house on the end of a small lane, a quaint two-room home made from the same stone as the rest of the buildings in the city, two trees in front of the home covered in purple leaves and dark pink flowers.

“We have it from here,” Lhandon told Sarnai, who merely nodded, turning back to the brewery.

“She’s quiet,” I said after she was gone.

“She was more talkative over breakfast, but not much. She mostly just asked me questions about our journey and the Path of the Divine. I suppose, as a bartender, she spends most of her time listening.” Lhandon chuckled. “She seems to be the exact opposite of her daughter.”

“Did she say anything about the reincarnation?”

“Not much, aside from hearing about a couple who’d had a child that doesn’t cry. This is their home, if that wasn’t clear.”

“It’s clear,” I said as I looked back at the place and its pretty purple trees. “So, how does this work anyway?”

Lhandon rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to tell them what I’m here to do, and then we’ll go from there.”

“You seem rather confident about this,” I said.

“No, just calm. I had a good meditation session this morning, and I’m feeling very positive about today’s affairs.”

“You were able to meditate with Roger snoring?”

Lhandon smiled. “I believe that was the lioness…”

“Don’t tell her that,” I said with a chuckle as I followed the monk up a stone pathway to a door that appeared to have been painted purple to match the foliage of the trees.

Lhandon knocked; it was only a few moments later when a woman came to the door.

She looked tired, her feathered hair down, her eyes a bit puffy. “Yes?” she asked, the corners of her lips twitching as she tried to smile.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Lhandon began, “but it has come to our attention that you have given birth to a boy who doesn’t cry.”

“Come again?”

“Your infant son, he doesn’t cry.”

“I don’t have a son, I have a girl. And wait…” She peered at us curiously. “Who are you again?”

“A girl?” Lhandon asked. “But I was told…” He shook his head. “My name is Lhandon, the Exalted One. This is Nick from Massachusetts.”

“Um, yes,” I said, bowing my head slightly. “From Massachusetts. But you can just call me Nick.”

The woman groaned. “Well, we have already tithed for the month, and until my husband is able to get another job on one of the merchant ships…”

“We aren’t here for money,” Lhandon assured her. “In fact, we are actually here to give you some money, well, potentially. I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself.”

I tried not to glance over at Lhandon, but I couldn’t help but feel like we were a pair of crappy door-to-door salesmen.

“What is this about?” the woman asked, exasperation in her voice.

We heard a man call out inside the home.

“I’ll be there in just a minute,” she called back to her husband.

Lhandon nodded politely. “We are from Lhasa, and we have come all this way because the Exonerated One, who was the founder of a monastery near the city of Nagchu, died. I was a monk at his monastery for thirty years, and one of the potential places that he had chosen to be reborn was here in the Island Kingdom of Jonang. So this is why we are here. And hearing about your, um, daughter, and the way she has reacted to being born, has led me to believe that she may be his reincarnation.”

“Tsetsen?” she asked.

“Is that her name?”

“It is, but I don’t…” the woman shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“Would you mind if we met your daughter?” Lhandon asked. “I have a simple test to perform, and if that test confirms anything for me, there will be a runic ceremony test. I don’t want to take too much of your time, and regardless, I can pay you for this visit. And of course, you can be there the entire time.”

“I…”

“It’s okay, we aren’t here to do anything drastic,” Lhandon assured her. “Well, I suppose learning that your daughter is a reincarnated master is a bit drastic, if that is indeed the case. Did I mention we could pay you for your time?”

“Sure, and yes, you did,” she finally said. “But let me talk to my husband as well.”

“By all means,” Lhandon told her.

The woman shut the door on us, and for a moment I didn’t think she would open it again.

“Well?” I asked the monk, whose hands were now clasped behind his back.

“Par for the course,” he assured me. “And I expected the parents to be a little shocked, more so if this young girl turns out to be the Exonerated One.”

“We aren’t bringing a child with us, are we? Because that would be…”

“Absurd. I believe I discussed this with you before, but the child would stay here until they were old enough to start learning,” Lhandon said quietly. “Unless they were willing to move to whatever monastery I’m able to cobble together in Lhasa, the child may have to be trained here. But, it sounds like the husband is finding it hard to secure employment, so moving isn’t out of the question.”

“Looks like you’ll be starting a nunnery after all,” I said with a grin.

Lhandon nodded. “If she is indeed the reincarnation, then yes, that would be the case. Maybe it is better this way. The Exonerated One, as you may recall, had some less than desirable habits.”

“You mean like the time he stuck me in an underground meditation chamber without asking my opinion of the matter?”

“Yes, among other things,” Lhandon said solemnly.

The door opened and the woman returned, her husband at her side.

He too had red skin, the man sinewy and thin, a tattoo running down the side of his temple.

“Money first,” he said with a grunt.

“As promised,” Lhandon told the man as he reached into the front of his robes, bringing out a few of the promissory notes that Sukhbat had given him. “I suppose this will be enough?”

“Why…” The man tried to contain his excitement. His wife elbowed him; he winced, bowing his head. “Yes, ahem, that is a fair amount.”

“Please, come in,” the woman said as she opened the door just a little bit wider, allowing us to step inside.

The house was untidy but the floor was clean. While everything seemed to be in disarray, I could tell that there was some order to it, that someone, likely the woman, was in control. They led us to the bedroom, where we found the young girl asleep, swaddled in blankets.

Her mother picked her up, and rather than cry, the child merely blinked her eyes open, making an agitated face aimed in the direction of her father.

“And she has never cried?” I asked.

“Not a peep. She makes noises,” the woman explained, “but no crying whatsoever.” The mother turned her young daughter in the direction of Lhandon. “Tsetsen, this is the Exalted One.”

The baby looked Lhandon over as if she were scrutinizing, a frown taking shape across her face.

“Nice to meet you, Tsetsen,” Lhandon said, bowing his head at the child. “I suppose we should get started. Do you mind unwrapping her blanket?”

“Sure,” the mother said as she handed the baby to her husband.

The woman sat on the ground, and her husband lowering the baby back into her arms. From there she unwrapped the blankets covering the baby’s body and sat the child up, using her own legs for support.

“I’m going to arrange some black pearls in front of you, Tsetsen,” Lhandon explained slowly, even though the child couldn’t understand him. “If you see the one that is yours, I want you to indicate to me that it belongs to you. You may interpret this request in any way that you would like.”

Lhandon began placing black pearls on the ground. He lined them all up, the infant girl watching him skeptically as he did so.

“Now, which one is yours?”

She started to glare at  Lhandon.

“Please, Tsetsen, are any of these your pearls?”

The child’s face grew red and she shook her head.

“Did you see that, Nick?” Lhandon asked, without looking away from the girl.

“I think I did,” I said. “Yes, sure. She shook her head.”

“She’s really clever,” her father said. “We’ve already discovered that. Smarter than any baby that anyone around here has ever seen before, and definitely smarter than my brother’s son, who’s a little asshole.”

“Hush,” his wife said.

“It’s true! He bit my hand.”

“You wouldn’t stop patting him on the head!”

Lhandon ignored the parents as he picked up the pearls and placed them inside their leather satchel. He shook the satchel, Tsetsen watching as he did so. He reached his hand into the satchel and brought one of the pearls out, showing it to the girl.

“Would you like to play with it?” he asked as he brought it a little closer to her.

Tsetsen shook her head again, the young child taking in short breaths, clearly annoyed with the whole charade.

“Very well. Would you mind if I cast a rune?” Lhandon asked, looking up at the father and the mother.

“I don’t know…” the mother started to say.

“I assure you it won’t hurt her, but…” Lhandon bobbed his head left and right as he considered how he was going to explain this. “But it may disturb you.”

The father took a step back, leaned on his heel, and then pressed forward a bit. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to cast a rune that will make your daughter float for a moment. The reason she will be floating is that her soul will be momentarily stripped from her body. It will look like it is painful, but it is not, and she will fall asleep after her soul has been returned to her body. It will bring no harm to your daughter.”

“You’re going to make her float?” the woman asked.

“It’s the final test I’m able to confirm with my limited supplies,” Lhandon admitted. “And I’m well aware that using this rune is a bit unorthodox, but it is the only option available. And to be clear, her soul may actually speak, although I have yet to see that happen. So please be prepared for that possibility as well.”

“You’ve seen this before?” I asked.

“Aren’t you his assistant?” the man asked, looking at me curiously.

“Heavens, no,” Lhandon said with a chuckle. “He is a friend of mine. He has taken to wearing robes, and I believe he is a practitioner of the Path of the Divine, but he hasn’t cleared the Broken Sword stage.”

“That’s right,” I told him, smiling over at the couple.

“Should I just…” the woman looked up to the bed. “Is that okay?”

“That is a perfect place to place her,” Lhandon said.

The woman handed the baby to her husband, who placed Tsetsen on the bed.

“Please, do not panic,” Lhandon said as he ran his finger through the air.

He moved quickly, tracing more runes than I had ever seen him cast before, practically a paragraph of runes. Once he finished, a slither of smoke emitted from his fingertip.

“Are you sure about this?” the girl’s mother whispered.

“Trust me,” Lhandon told her.

The smoke started to turn to glitter, forming a cloud over the child’s body. It faded to white and spiraled down into the center of the young girl’s body, which was pulled upward, as if she had been suspended on a hook.

Her mother gasped as Tsetsen opened her mouth, still not making a noise as a milky white and purple substance started to pour out of her pupils.

It rose over her body, forming into something that looked like a swelling brain.

“Exonerated One,” Lhandon said, dropping to his knee.

“Wh-hhat have you done!?”

Lhandon lifted his hand, silencing Tsetsen’s mother.

“Rghghghhaahwwwwwwaaaaa….”

The sound emitting from the child’s mouth was unlike any noise I’d heard before. It was a guttural utterance, almost completely generated from the baby’s throat, in need of an exorcism.

Suddenly, it shifted tones.

“Lhandon, what have you done to my monastery?” a whispery voice asked.

“She speaks!?” the mother gasped again. Her husband caught her just in time as she fainted.

“Wrap this up,” the husband said, a nervous look coming over his face. “I don’t want anything happening to her…”

“She will be fine,” I said for Lhandon, who was too busy focusing on the spirit to pay attention to the husband any longer.

“Exonerated One,” Lhandon said, bowing his head. “Your monastery has been destroyed, but by the time you are of age, I will have it rebuilt. You have reincarnated in the body of a girl.”

“A girl?” the voice asked, the agitation behind it starting to fade away.

“Yes, a girl named Tsetsen.”

“A young girl, eh? I suppose I am fine with that,” the voice finally said, softer this time. “It is time that this world recognizes a powerful nun, and through this vessel, I will become that nun, one that can inspire women and girls across the kingdoms.”

“Yes, Exonerated One.”

“I expect you to look after my mother and father until I’m of age to travel to Lhasa. I am assuming we are in the Island Kingdom, correct?”

“We are,” Lhandon said.

I felt a fluttering sensation in my stomach, and as I looked down, I noticed that a bright energy was starting to spiral out of me as well.

“Lhandon, something’s happening to me…”

“I have to send you back, Exonerated One,” Lhandon said hurriedly. “Before I do, you have my word that I will get the monastery rebuilt, and I will also build a monastery for myself in Bamda.”

“Absolutely not,” the spirit chided him.

“If that is your wish…” Lhandon started to say.

“You will not build a monastery for yourself, you will build a temple, Exalted One,” the spirit said. “I expect nothing less.”

“Lhandon…” I said, starting to feel lightheaded.

Lhandon stood and quickly traced a series of runes.

The purple substance was sucked back into the girl through her eye sockets. She lowered to the bed, the smoke Lhandon used to lift her returning to his fingertip.

“Are you all right, Nick?” he asked me.

“Why did it do that?” I asked as I touched my stomach, noticing that the fluttering sensation was gone.

“That particular rune is a tricky one,” Lhandon said quickly. “And if one isn’t careful, it will start pulling out the souls of everyone in the room. It’s why I only use it on rare occasions.”

He straightened his hand over his robes and turned to the father and mother, the woman just starting to flutter her eyes open.

“What happened?” she asked her husband.

“Our…” the man gulped. “Tsetsen is a reincarnation.”

“She is indeed,” Lhandon told them. “And I will go over all the details now. Unless you would like me to go over them later…”

The two parents exchanged glances. “I suppose now is fine,” the man told him.

“I won’t waste your time, but I will tell you that at the age of ten, she will have to come to the monastery. I can also tell you that the Exonerated One does have wealth in Lhasa, a portion of which will go to you as his, I mean her, parents. Ultimately, it is up to you to make the decision, but when she comes of age, she will likely rebel if you haven’t allowed her to go down the path that she has already chosen for herself.”

“The spirit said that he wanted her to become a famous nun, to inspire other girls,” the man told his wife.

“Then…” the mother nodded, choking back a sob.

“You will probably start to notice more and more instances of her exhibiting who she used to be,” Lhandon explained. “I suspect this will happen more once she has learned to speak, which will probably come at an age earlier than her peers. You have caught me in a sort of transitional phase, one in which I’m trying to see to a few things around the world, as funny as that may sound, and also re-codify the Path of the Divine. I will be in touch in the future, and I will give you updates on the construction of the monastery.”

“He said a temple too…” I told Lhandon.

“The temple will come later,” Lhandon said before returning his attention to the parents. “Once I’m back in Lhasa, I will send money your way. Anticipate that I will also send a monk to live here in the city, to help look after her. But these are all details that we can sort out later. For now, just take good care of her, and know that Tsetsen was already a special child, but now she has a destiny to fulfill, which in the end is all we can truly ask for.”

Chapter Nineteen: Floating Guard Skull

We returned to the brewery, just about the time that Lhandon’s rune to mask my appearance started to fade away.

We found Saruul in the kitchen helping Amraa prepare brunch, the lioness looking cute in her apron as she followed Amraa’s instructions. Roger was perched on the slot that allowed the kitchen to slip food to the other side of the room, where it would be delivered from the bar.

“Any luck?” Roger asked me.

“She’s the reincarnation,” Lhandon asked, surmising what the bird was inquiring about.

“Wait, did you say she?”

“I’ll explain later,” I told Roger.

“Yes, you will, and aside from that, this calls for a celebration! Saruul, do you think you can whip up a cake? Maybe something with a tart icing, if it wouldn’t trouble you.”

“A bird cake?” she asked. “I’ve never tried to bake a bird into a cake before, but I’m sure it would work. It’ll probably be good with tart icing too.”

“What?” Amraa asked, giving her a horrified look.

“Just dealing with the bird.”

“I think she’s hungry,” Roger said once he landed on my shoulder. “She’s been threatening to eat me alive this morning.”

“My patience is growing thin, Roger,” Saruul reminded him. “Ever since you woke me up…”

“I had a nightmare,” he started to say. “I wasn’t trying to wake you up… I… I can’t be held responsible for what I do in my sleep!”

Buka ran into the kitchen. The girl held a doll that looked as if it had been made from a burlap sack, one of its eyes missing. “Welcome home!”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning as she burst back out of the kitchen.

“To have that much energy,” Lhandon said once she was gone. “It reminds me of when I was a young monk. It might not seem like it, but I sure was spry.”

“It won’t be long now,” Amraa informed us, “and then you can set off on your journey. I have briefed Saruul here on the best way for you to take.” His smile started to crack. “I do hope you are aware of what you’re getting into, though. The demon that protects the only bridge crossing between the two mountains is, for lack of a better term, a real ornery bastard. I don’t know how many people have died trying to kill it…” He transferred some partially burned potatoes from the skillet into a blue ceramic bowl. “Anyway, there’s always the option of climbing.”

“We will see to the demon,” Lhandon assured him. “It won’t be the first demon we’ve dealt with, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

Buka and her mother joined us for brunch, her mother silent as always.

As we ate, Amraa told us a story about a young boy from Zol who wanted to be Emperor of the island. I thought that the story was going to end with the boy actually becoming Emperor, but it ended with the boy eventually being killed in one of the Moon Tournaments by having his skull split in two by an ax.

There was a meaning to the story, but I couldn’t tell if the meaning was to not overstep one’s bounds, or not enter tournaments in which the punishment is having one’s head split in two by an ax.

We finished eating and helped clean up.

It wasn’t long before we set off, Lhandon’s bag now filled with spare robes and other provisions for our journey.

Following the instructions provided to Saruul by Amraa, we took a path that followed the stream outside Zol, the jungle concealing us from the main road. This meant that Lhandon didn’t need to use his rune to disguise my features, all of us a bit relaxed as we walked.

“A nun,” Saruul said after Lhandon had explained in detail what we had experienced earlier, and how the Exonerated One had reincarnated into the body of a girl named Tsetsen. “I think that’s a very good thing. Lhasa already has a nunnery or two, right?”

“I believe there is one, in the Forbidden City of Trongsa,” Lhandon said, “but nunneries have traditionally found it harder to secure funding than male-run monasteries and temples.”

“Would you call whatever the new Exonerated One opens a nunnery?” I asked. “Or would it be a monastery, or a temple?”

“Yeah,” Roger chimed in. “I’ve been wondering about that too.”

The bird had eaten too much for brunch, and had decided to hang out on my shoulder for the time being, letting his food digest.

“A monastery,” Lhandon said as he rolled up his sleeves, drops of sweat sliding down his forehead.

“And what’s the difference, exactly, between a monastery and a temple?” I asked, something I had been wondering for a while now.

“A temple pays homage to an enlightened teacher. It is only at the request of a teacher to a student that a temple can be opened. This was why…” Lhandon took a deep breath in, nodding with humble satisfaction. “This was why I was so surprised and delighted when the Exonerated One asked me to open a temple rather than a monastery. It is the highest form of respect.”

“So is it higher up on the totem pole than a monastery?”

“Totem pole?” Saruul asked as we started to transition to the jungle. As always, the trees were painted, this time with two blue stripes around their trunks, monkeys and birds moving through the branches above.

“I guess what I’m asking is which one is higher in terms of a pecking order.”

“A pecking order?” Roger snorted. “I don’t know if I should be offended, or too satiated to give a damn.”

“Believe it or not, a temple is higher than a monastery,” Lhandon explained. “A temple not only honors the previous master, but also shows that they were confident enough in their teachings and in one of their pupils to expand their reach. This is precisely why temples have grandiose names, and monasteries go by the name of whoever is the current head monk there. Take the Monastery of the Exonerated One, as an example. The one I will eventually open in Bamda would be his first temple.”

The terrain started to change over the next two hours, going from jungle to foothills. There were points that we walked through that made me imagine what it would be like to walk through an English garden, the rocks like sculptures, some of them over ten feet tall with vines draping over them, huge snapdragons and hanging lilacs interspersed between their ranks perfuming the air.

The temperature started to change a little as well.

No longer was it hot and humid, a cool breeze reminding me every now and then that we were heading back into the mountains, making me lament the fact that we hadn’t packed our warmer robes.

Lhandon mentioned this little detail at some point, saying it was an oversight on his part, Saruul arguing that it was Amraa who should have warned us. Forgiving as ever, Lhandon took the blame and refused to even entertain a conversation that questioned the guidance or benevolence of our hosts.

Another thirty minutes or so and the jungle was now below us, the city of Zol in the distance and partially hidden by a milky haze.

I could see jagged mountains as well, some of them pressing through the clouds, their peaks hidden. Others were angled and sharp, carved out by glaciers, their summits sparkling white in the afternoon sun.

We came to a sign that had been carved into a rock, faded blue paint making the script more visible.

“What’s it say?” I asked.

“It’s a warning,” Lhandon explained after he’d read it. “‘Anyone who travels past this point travels at their own risk.’ I suppose city officials erected the sign to prevent any unnecessary encounters with the demon that lays ahead.”

“So we should get ready?” Saruul asked.

“We should, and that means you should be ready to conjure Bah-Mo and use your Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom,” he told me. “Perhaps I will be of assistance as well. Saruul, your focus will be mainly defensive, helping one of us if we look like we’re about to come into harm’s way,” the monk said.

“And me?” Roger asked.

Lhandon continued, either ignoring Roger or not intuiting what he was asking. “There are innumerable demons and spirits across the five kingdoms, and some of them don’t live up to their reputations. I suppose what I’m trying to say here is the people of Zol may have blown the severity and power of this demon or spirit out of proportion. Then again, I could be wrong. We shall soon see.”

It took us about twenty minutes to come across another warning, this one carved more hurriedly than the last.

“I don’t like this,” Roger said.

“We’ll be okay,” I assured him as I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt, a white sliver of energy moving toward the tip and back down to the hilt.

We continued onward, Lhandon behind me, and Saruul and Roger behind him. It was eerily quiet now; no wind, the air a bit thin. I could still smell the flowers that we’d passed earlier, but their scent was beginning to waver.

We came around another bend to find a final sign, a last warning about the demon that lay ahead.

“Just be ready,” I said as we came to a rope bridge separating our mountain pass from the one across from it. It was a long bridge, at least forty yards from end to end.

“Do you see anything?” Lhandon asked me.

“I don’t,” I said, my weapon still at the ready.

“Let me take a look.” Roger lifted into the air and cautiously flew toward the bridge, scanning the area and then dropping even lower to check to make sure all the rungs were in place.

“It looks fine to me,” he said once he returned. “Though it never ends well when someone says it like that,” he quipped.

“Touché,” I told him, and before he could ask me what that word meant, I took a step toward the bridge, my weapon still drawn.

I waited for any signs of movement, signs of anything, really, and once nothing made itself known, I moved closer to the center of the bridge.

My hand still on my blade, I placed the other on the rope railing for added support.

“Here we go,” I said to myself, trying not to gauge just how far the drop was. I felt a gushing feeling in my stomach, which I quickly settled with a deep breath in.

“Please, be careful, Nick,” I heard Saruul call to me.

I nodded and took a step forward, onto the first rung. It felt stable enough, so I continued onward, still gripping my sword tightly.

A wind whipped up, causing the bridge to tremble.

For a moment I thought that I was about to be attacked by a wind spirit, but then it subsided, the bridge stable again. Trembling slightly, but stable.

I glanced back to see Lhandon about to step onto the bridge.

I nodded to him, and just as I was turning around again, a giant skull with fiery wings where its ears should be took shape in the center of the bridge.

The skull was practically the size of a hot air balloon, its dark eyeholes glaring down at me.

The adrenaline surged and I let go of the railing.

I traced Bah-Mo, the semi-translucent monkey warrior appearing before me.

He glared up at the fire winged skull, and sprang forward, stepping even higher into the air and spiraling toward his opponent as he prepared to deliver his first blow. His two blades connected with the skull’s forehead, the skull completely absorbing the attack, a fiery tendril swiping Bah-Mo out of the air.

“Nick, come back!” I heard Lhandon shout from the other side of the bridge.

“Nick! Nick!” Saruul and Roger shouted.

And even though I shouldn’t have, I glanced over my shoulder to see Lhandon holding her back, the lioness about to transform and run out on the bridge to rescue me.

Calming my nerves, I tried to focus on how I would deliver a blow to the enormous floating skull.

It was too high up in the air for me to jump and hit it, and while I sometimes had the ability to defy gravity, it wasn’t something I could simply trigger.

I started to charge forward, assuming that the skull would come down to meet me while Bah-Mo continued to swat at it, his attacks practically bouncing off the monster.

The skull swatted Bah-Mo away with its fire wings; it tilted its forehead toward me, charging, snapping its teeth as it did so.

I skidded to a halt, nearly going over the side before starting to backpedal.

I reached the end of the bridge and the skull swooped back into the air, doubling back around, where it was met by Bah-Mo, who continued to pummel it even though none of his hits seemed to do any damage.

“I don’t know…” I said, indicating to Lhandon that I wasn’t sure of how we would take this thing down. It took me a second to catch my breath; even if I knew it was useless, or at least it felt that way, I felt the urge to go back out onto the bridge, to attempt it again.

“Wait,” Lhandon said firmly, his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s see what happens.”

We watched the monkey warrior continue to fight it until my rune started to fade away. Once Bah-Mo was gone, the skull returned to the center of the bridge and hovered just above it, daring us to try to use the bridge.

“That was…” Roger shivered. “Great, a floating guard skull. Every time I feel like I’ve seen everything I could possibly see on this goddamn journey, something new decides to pop up. Well, shit. It wouldn’t be very hard to get across if we could all fly. I mean, I could cross right now if I wanted to.”

“But we can’t fly,” Saruul said as she cautiously watched the skull, her arms crossed over her chest. “Maybe we don’t have to climb up the other side; maybe there’s a path somewhere and we just have to find it.”

“Perhaps,” Lhandon said, “but that could take us ages to find.”

I glanced at the giant skull and took a step back onto the bridge.

“Nick…” Saruul said.

“Just let me test something.”

The fiery skull let me take a few steps before it began charging my direction. As soon as I stepped off the bridge, it stopped.

“What about…” Roger’s eyes went wide and excited look on his face. “Okay, I’ve got an idea. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Saruul asked.

“Just hear me out…”

“This is seriously insane,” Saruul said as she continued to pace back and forth, Lhandon getting into position.

“We tested it,” Lhandon reminded her, “and it worked.”  He undid his ponytail, tightened it, and retied it. “I have faith that it will work again.”

We had tested Roger’s idea a couple times now, both Lhandon and Saruul taking practice runs.

It was an unstable and unusual way to travel, but with a little luck, it would get us to the other side.

The flaming skull was a quarter mile away by this point, and we were pretty sure it didn’t leave its bridge, giving us plenty of time to work with Roger’s suggestion.

“It’s not very far,” Lhandon whispered to himself. The monk looked to the other side of the gorge, focusing on the mountain pass he was hoping to land on. “I can do this. Nick, it’s now or never.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I asked him as I lifted the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers.

“It’s time…” Lhandon said as he took a step back, preparing to leap over the gorge. His backpack was off now, and lying on the ground next to a flat stone.

I started waving the fan slowly as we had practiced, Lhandon’s robes fluttering in the wind.

He stretched for a moment, took two deep breaths in, and then charged toward the ledge. His feet left the ground, and I batted the fan in the air with as much strength as I could possibly muster.

It blew Lhandon six or seven feet up in the air, giving me a second to step forward and use the fan a few more times, the wind propelling Lhandon forward.

I reached the edge and Saruul grabbed me, stopping me from slipping off the ledge myself.

“Thanks,” I said as I brought the fan back again, swinging it forward, a huge gust of wind finally sending Lhandon to the other side.

The portly monk hit the ground, bounced once, and let out a miserable moan.

Roger raced to the other mountain pass and returned. “He has definitely broken a leg,” he said, flapping his wings in the air. “But other than that, he’s happy. Wincing, and clearly in pain, but happy nonetheless.”

“I can heal him…”

“Definitely,” the bird said quickly. “Lioness, you’re up next.”

Saruul paced back and forth for a moment, shaking her head as she did so.

“I would go next,” I reminded her, “but I kind of have to be here to send you forward.”

“Maybe if I morph,” she suggested.

Saruul stopped in front of me, placing her hand on my cheek.

“You can do this,” I told her softly.

“I trust you.”

“I got Lhandon to the other side, and I damn sure will get you there as well,” I promised her, not wanting to comment on the monk’s weight. “Lion or human, you’re going to be lighter than him.”

“Is she lighter than him in her lion form?” Roger asked. “I know, I know, you aren’t supposed to ask a woman her weight, but this is for scientific purposes here.”

“I’m ready,” she said with a short breath out, ignoring Roger. “Let’s do this.”

The lioness pivoted from foot to foot, her tail bouncing in the air for a moment. She shook her hands out and sucked in another deep breath. As she did so I started to slowly wave the fan, the wind meeting her back.

She started to run and then skidded to a halt right before she reached the ledge.

“Shit, Saruul!” I said, moving my hand a different direction just in time to blow a gust of wind to my right, which sent Roger spinning.

“Dammit!” he cried as he spiraled away.

“Sorry, my nerves got me. Sorry, Roger! I will do it this time. Don’t hold back,” Saruul said.

She got into position again, pivoting from foot to foot as she looked across the deep gorge.

The lioness took off running.

As she pressed off the balls of her feet, I used all my strength to send the fan in an upward arc, the wind forcing her up into the air. I approached the edge, swinging as hard as I possibly could, the lioness morphing midair.

She eventually made it to the other mountain pass, where she quickly pulled herself up using her claws.

“You almost lost her there,” Roger said as he dropped into my shoulder.

“If she hadn’t morphed…” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. She’s there now, and that’s all that matters.”

“Are you ready to do this?” Roger asked as he lifted off my shoulder.

“Let me grab our backpack first.”

I positioned the bag on my shoulders and made sure everything was hooked up and ready to go, including my belt and my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom.

The last thing I wanted to do was lose my legendary weapon to the gorge below.

I stooped forward just a little and started moving the fan in the air as if it were a pendulum, my feet lifting off the ground.

I slowed my movement, dropping back down.

“Come on, Nick, flying is not that hard.” Roger lifted off my shoulder, now hovering in the air before me. “See?”

“You’re right.” I took off running and jumped once I met the ledge, waving the fan below me.

I dropped, but as I did an enormous gust of wind shot me up into the air, my heart practically in my throat by this point.

I aimed the fan in a direction that would propel me forward, beating it as hard in the air as fast as I could.

I tried not to look down; I tried to focus only on making it to the other side.

I soon became aware of the fact that I was only going up, that I wasn’t going forward any.

“Come on, Nick!” Roger screeched.

I attempted to change the trajectory of my strokes, but doing so only tilted me in a different direction.

I was so charged by this point that I barely noticed the time switch appear in front of me, triggering itself.

Time stopped and I was suddenly floating.

Now able to catch my breath, I leveled my body out so it was more horizontal than vertical.

Now in a better position, I began waving the fan beneath me.

As time sped up I catapulted forward, nearly colliding with the other mountain.

I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me, my heart still running in my chest.

I glanced over to Lhandon, who was holding his leg, the monk suffering quietly.

“We’re using the bridge on the way back,” he said with a finality I had rarely heard from the man. “Please, as soon as you can, heal me.”

Chapter Twenty: Deathstone

As Saruul and Lhandon looked over the treasure map, I joined Roger, who was perched on a mangled bush at the ledge of the mountain pass.

“It feels great to fly, doesn’t it?” he asked as he finished picking at his wing. “The wind through your hair, your heart lifted, the ground so far below…”

“I don’t know if I would describe the feeling as great.”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t so bad, Nick. Everyone made it across, and only the monk received a broken bone from doing so. And Saruul only just barely made it up the ledge once. And let’s be honest, you only almost died once.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked down at the wide crevice between the two mountains, trying to gauge how far down it went.

I had never seen anything like it before.

It was clear that at some point in its history, the mountain had separated. Since I was living in a world with magical properties and loads of cantankerous demons, I wondered if that separation was due to plate tectonics, or some infamous battle that had been lost to the ages.

There really was no telling.

I approached the edge and crouched. From there I got onto my belly so I could look down and try to see what was at the bottom of the gorge.

“You could have just asked me,” Roger said as he came to understand what I was trying to do. “There’s water down there.”

“Apparently,” I said as I pushed myself up, rejoining Lhandon and Saruul. “How much further do you think we have to go?”

“It’s still going to be a walk,” Saruul said as she handed the map back to me. “And we’re going to have to pass by the bridge and the demon skull.”

“Do you think it will attack us?”

“It seems to only protect the bridge,” Lhandon said, “so no, I don’t think it will do anything to us. But we will need to come up with a way to actually use the bridge on our way back.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to fly again?” Roger asked as he landed on my shoulder.

Saruul shot Roger a dirty look. “You already know the answer to that question.”

“No boats, no flying, soon enough…”

The lioness scowled at the bird while Lhandon put on his backpack.

Luckily for him, Roger was more or less quiet for the next leg of our journey, even as we passed the bridge that the demon skull had decided to call home.

As we had witnessed before, there was no evidence that the skull was even there at the moment. But I knew if I stepped out onto the first rung, it would appear and chase after me.

“Don’t worry about the bridge,” Lhandon said in a reassuring voice. “I have a couple ideas for how we can get across. One is bound to work.”

The terrain became more difficult from this point forward, our path less discernible. We began climbing rocks, walking when we could, keeping as low to the ground as possible.

Lhandon slipped once, but he managed to catch himself, all of us continuing forward in what we were somewhat certain was the right direction.

After about an hour of that, we took a breather, late afternoon approaching, the sun hidden by a black rain cloud. Lhandon took some dried fruits out of his pack and handed them out to us. Roger picked it out of Lhandon’s fingers, and flew over to a rock, where he pecked it apart into smaller pieces.

“We’re going to have to find shelter,” Saruul said, her nostrils flaring open, concern flitting across her face. “It will rain tonight, and if it gets cold enough…”

“I hate the snow,” Roger lamented as he continued to work on his dried fruit. “And I have no idea where my fur vest is. Where did we leave that? It’s been a while since I wore clothing.”

“It might have gotten lost in Sarpang,” I told him.

“It won’t be pretty if we have to sleep out here on the mountain pass,” Saruul said.

“I hope that isn’t the case,” Lhandon told Saruul. “Perhaps the location of the treasure will have a small cave or covered nook waiting for us. I wish we knew more about the location, but the map doesn’t specify anything.”

“And Nyima wouldn’t have known anyway,” I added.

We pressed onward, at some points crawling up the rocky terrain. We reached a point in the mountain pass where it was relatively smooth, all of us glad to exert less energy for the time being.

The temperature started to drop. The dark clouds above us expanded, growing thicker as the sun began to set.

But then the weather changed. There were a good thirty minutes of our walk in which it was absolutely gorgeous, the sun a glowing marigold orb on the horizon wrapped in a ring of deep purple from the rainy black clouds that continued to form.

It never fully started to rain, but there were a few drops, and as we continued onward, Lhandon noticed a string of old prayer flags interspersed between some of the rocks.

“I believe we are close,” he said, catching his breath.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Roger lifted off my shoulder, flying forward while the three of us took a quick rest.

“I really hope we can find shelter,” Saruul said yet again, the lioness clearly afraid of the cold.

“We will,” Lhandon assured her. “There’s always shelter somewhere on a mountain, and if someone hid a relic all the way up here, they must have rested somewhere.”

“Remember, we don’t know if it’s a relic yet,” I said. “For all we know—”

“—Whatever it is, I hope it is worth our journey.” Saruul scooped up some snow with her hand and ate it. “It’s very fresh up here,” she added.

“Is it?” Lhandon tasted some of the snow himself. “Fresh and refreshing! I do wish Tashi were here to help us boil it, but I suppose this will do. Tashi was always great to have around.”

I found some snow that had been piled up on a rock, and after checking to make sure an animal hadn’t pissed on it, I scooped some into my mouth, the consistency reminding me of a snowcone.

“I am sure we will reunite with him once we make it back to Lhasa,” I said. “He’s probably waiting for us in Dornod.”

“It will be interesting to return home,” Saruul said.

“Yes, it really will,” the monk replied as he shoveled more snow into his mouth.

Roger returned, his eyes wide with excitement.

“We’re almost there,” he said, spiraling over our heads. “Just about ten more minutes. Maybe a little bit more. There’s a ledge up there with a statue on it, and an amulet around the statue’s neck.”

“What’s he saying?” Lhandon asked.

I translated quickly and the monk turned to Roger. “Was there shelter? Was there any writing etched into the stone there? Did you see anything like that?”

“Shelter? Yes. Writing? I didn’t see, but I didn’t look all that hard.”

“He says there is a shelter, and he didn’t see any writing but he didn’t look for any either.”

“Then let’s get going,” Saruul said, the lioness suddenly rejuvenated. She morphed into her animal form, sprinting up the rocks.

“I’m with her,” Roger said as he flapped his wings, heading in her direction.

Lhandon and I exchanged glances, both of us moving quickly as we scaled the rocky incline.

And just as Roger had said, it took us about ten minutes to reach the ledge in question, where we found a partially-crumbled stone statue of a woman, her head shaved, four wings jutting out of her back, and an amulet with a dark stone around her neck.

Saruul morphed back to her human form, a smile on her face. “There’s definitely a good spot for us to stay tonight,” she said, nodding in a direction over her shoulder. I noticed that there was a fairly large hole in the rock, the entrance partially covered by a boulder that looked like it would provide shelter from the wind.

“And you already checked it?” I asked as Lhandon approached the statue.

“I did; there’s only one entrance, and nothing has lived in the cave for ages.”

Lhandon glanced at the amulet that the statue was wearing. He bent forward to wipe the snow off the ground, hoping to find some type of inscription.

“The treasure is clearly the amulet,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“But before we touch it, we need to know what it is and what it does,” Lhandon added. “After all, it could be cursed. It could also be a trap.”

I joined Lhandon and started wiping away some of the snow on the ground, using a rock to break away a bit of ice as well.

I looked up at the statue, noticing that there was an indention in the woman’s palm.

“You think it has something to do with that?” I asked Lhandon, who looked up as well.

“It looks like it’s about the size of a prayer bead,” he mumbled to himself. The monk always carried a string of prayer beads, and as he pulled out the front of his robe, he looked at the beads, judging their size against the indentation in the woman’s palm.

“Maybe just a bit bigger,” I said.

Lhandon brought out the small satchel of black pearls that he had purchased. He placed one of the pearls in the statue’s palm. An energy started to move up the woman’s arm, curving down to her chest, where a script etched itself into the stone.

“Oh my…” Lhandon said as he took a step away from the statue, reading the script.

Saruul joined him, Roger landing on her shoulder.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The stone in the amulet is…” Lhandon shook his head. “I was always under the impression that these didn’t actually exist, that they were just legend.”

“Same here,” Saruul said.

“I hadn’t even heard the legends,” Roger chimed in.

“And for it to be on such an accessible mountain pass…” Lhandon ran his hand over his head. “That’s probably why the demon skull was there, to guard this amulet. It makes sense. It makes total sense!”

“What kind of stone is it?” I asked, not yet sharing their surprise considering I couldn’t read the text.

“It’s a deathstone, Nick,” Lhandon said. “Please, take it. If anyone should have it, it’s you.”

I ran my hand over the black stone that reminded me of onyx. The Deathstone Amulet, as Lhandon had christened it, featured a thin, yet sturdy, silver-threaded chain attached to its clasp. It was clear in the way that the stone was affixed to the necklace that it couldn’t be torn off.

We were in the small cave near the statue now, a snowstorm roaring outside.

Even though the branches and twigs we’d scavenged had been a little wet, my Flaming Thunderbolt was still able to light them; a gap in the rocky cave wall provided ventilation for the smoke.

Since the flame on my sword was eternal, I kept it in the fire pit, adding to the warmth. It was a bit warmer than I would have liked, but after stepping outside to relieve myself, I was glad to be back in a space that was cozy.

“How do we know it actually works?” Saruul asked Lhandon as we finished some of our dried fruit and fish, winding down for the evening.

“I have no reason not to believe what was written on the statue,” he said.

“But someone could have already taken it, and replaced it with a replica.”

“We both looked over the amulet,” he reminded her. “Did it seem like a replica to you?”

“I didn’t even know that they existed.”

“I mean, there’s one way to find out…”

Saruul snarled at Roger. “We aren’t killing Nick just to bring him back.”

“I’m just saying, that’s how we could theoretically test it.”

“Besides, I can only use it once,” I reminded the bird, who was resting on his back, his head propped up by a rock, his wings on his belly.

“That’s right,” Lhandon said. “You can die once, and when you go to the Underworld, you will still be wearing the amulet. When you break the stone there, you will come back to life here.”

“I don’t understand why it only goes to the Underworld,” I told him. “You never explained that part.”

“Because a stone like this won’t get you into the Overworld, even if it is where you should theoretically be reborn,” he said, as if I understood the lore of the land. “I suppose I should elaborate: the deathstone was designed, at least the legend goes, by a demon from the Underworld who had fallen in love with a mortal woman, a woman who just so happened to be the epitome of piety.”

“My type of woman!” Roger said with a squawk.

“She loved him too, and as you can imagine, she didn’t know his true identity. Knowing that if she died she would go to the Overworld and he would lose her forever, the demon gave her a ring with a deathstone set in it, followed by a glass of wine that had been spiked with poison. She died and was reborn in the Underworld, where he quickly took the ring from her.”

“So he held her hostage in hell?” I asked.

“That is precisely what he did. He also made deathstones for other demons who were planning to come to this world, which is how the one around your neck came to be.”

“And whatever happened to the woman?” Roger asked.

“Is he asking about the woman’s fate?”

Saruul nodded. “Yes, he’s actually listening for once.”

“I have heard two versions of the legend,” the monk said. “In one, the woman poisons her demon host and destroys the stone, which allows her to return here and die a normal death, whatever that may be. In the second version, she grows to love the Underworld, and eventually forgives the demon who had trapped her there.”

“That’s one fucked up ending,” Roger said, “but it seems more likely to me. If this demon was rich down there, and he had a castle or something, it may have been a better life than she had here. And who knows what sort of social structure they have in the Overworld. He could have had a plantation like Madame Mabel with tons of slaves. Maybe this lady wasn’t so pious after all.”

“I don’t believe that’s the point of the story,” Saruul told him.

“Well, there are two interpretations,” he said, throwing his wings out as if to shrug.

“We have spoken on why you came to our world in the first place, and you have also spoken to your dakini about it,” Lhandon said to me. “From what you’ve told us, you have been brought here by a force from the Overworld, and something from the Underworld is actively trying to stop you. I’m just thinking out loud here, but maybe this amulet will allow you to see to your enemies in the Underworld and find out more on how you could return to your world, if that is your wish.”

“Time will tell,” I said, not looking at Saruul, even though I could sense she was staring at me. Rather than make eye contact with her, I looked at the amulet in my robes.

“I believe there’s enough room out there for us to play with your time ability in the morning, if you would like to do so,” Lhandon said, changing subjects. “I know this isn’t an ideal location, but we would have more privacy up here than the city below.”

“Sure, let’s do that.”

“And what happens tomorrow, once we return to Zol?” Saruul asked.

“She’s got a point, Nick,” Roger cackled. “What happens next?”

“I don’t believe we have worn out our welcome at the brewery, but we do need to make a decision as to what we should do next,” Lhandon said, answering for me. “We have found the reincarnation of the Exonerated One, beautiful young Tsetsen, and I would like to pay her mother and father a visit once again, to make sure that a line of communication remains open. From there, we can either go back to Lhasa, or…”

“No, we have to handle things here in the Island Kingdom,” I said, everyone knowing exactly what I meant. “It hasn’t been on my mind as much as it should, I’ll admit that. It’s just hard to process the fact that I’m going to have to go to war with a friend. And then what? I don’t want to be Emperor of this place if I do happen to beat him.”

“I suppose that would be another use of the amulet,” Lhandon said. “Let me clarify: if the reverse happens and you die, you can bring yourself back and sneak away with us.”

“Nick isn’t going to lose,” Roger said. “Not with us.”

The lioness sighed. “You are very confident for a bird your size.”

“I might be the size of a dead troll’s bloated fist, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart of gold, nor does it mean I wouldn’t take on a person twenty times my size. I’m the one that actually saw Hugo, remember? Don’t think for a minute that I couldn’t skewer one of his eyes, rendering him half-blind. And from that point? The sky is the limit, if you get my drift.”

“Such confidence,” she said, shaking her head.

“Is he boasting about something?” Lhandon asked.

Saruul and I both laughed, our voices echoing in the cave. “You could call it that,” I finally told the monk.

“Laugh it up,” Roger said, turning away from us, a grumpy look on his face. “Don’t be surprised when I turn out to be the bird that saves the day.”

All four of us eventually drifted off to sleep, but not before Lhandon led Saruul and me through a meditation that involved recognizing various human conditions, acknowledging them, recalling a time in which we had felt that human condition, and then letting it filter away.

It left me feeling calm and collected, the sound of the howling wind outside lulling me into a deep slumber.

I was up before the others the next morning, and after slipping into my boots and equipping my blade, I stepped outside, looking at the statue yet again. It was a clear day, the mountain visible in the distance, clumps of cotton white clouds wrapped around a few of their peaks.

As I looked at the statue I wondered what it represented, and how it had been erected so far away from civilization. I reached my hand out and touched it, noticing that it was cold and covered in a thin layer of snow.

Lhandon joined me, the monk yawning as he came out of the cave.

“Did the description say anything about the statue?” I asked, tapping my finger against the woman’s stomach. “Sorry, good morning.”

“Good morning to you as well. And to answer your question, no, but I have seen similar drawings and statues before,” he said after a long yawn. “There was a time in which dakinis were represented with wings, and this statue likely hails from that period. It was hundreds of years ago, probably just after the second Immortals came and died.”

“That’s right, there was more than one set.”

“The ones that you are so familiar with—Thupten the Corrupted; Misake the Whisperer; Ganbold the Strong; Padme Lung the Virtuous; and Kenzo the Written—were the first set to appear in our world, correct.”

“I wouldn’t say that I am familiar with them, but their names do keep popping up,” I told him.

“They should, and better understanding the paths that they have given to our world is something that I do hope to do once I’m settled again. I am most interested in the Path of Cultivation, as I feel that there are things I could learn from it that would help me better codify the Path of the Divine. That said, the Path of Sudden Enlightenment has always been a secret pleasure of mine, although practically no information exists about it, just secondhand sources. But I’m up for the challenge.”

“I’m sure you are.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about what happens when you cast Ra-Mu while your power is activated, how it reverses time, and how we can somehow give you control when it comes to setting the marker.”

“That’s a good way to put it, setting the marker.”

Lhandon nodded. “I didn’t want it to get confusing, and what I mean by the term is setting the time which you return to. So let’s just call it that.”

“Will do,” I told him. “Setting the marker.”

“My thoughts are that it is a mental visualization thing for you, similar to how you have learned to control your unique time ability. It may have something to do with your mind, or the world in which you come from, but it seems that being able to visualize some type of button or switch is how you, Nick Barnette, interpret your powers.”

“Go on...” I told him.

“I want you to first meditate on what the Ra-Mu button could look like, and where it would be located. My thoughts are this: you would mentally press this button, then activate your time ability, then cast the rune, and then you would return to the marker you have set. Since the others are sleeping, we can play around with this for a while. You aren’t cold or anything, are you?” he asked, looking around.

There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground, but the wind had subsided, and it wasn’t as cold as it had been the previous evening. The sun was coming up too, which led me to believe that the snow would melt soon.

“I’m fine,” I told him.

“Then sit with me. I want you to focus on visualizing a button that would set the marker for the rune.”

After dusting away the snow, we sat before one another, Lhandon instructing me on the style of breathing I should utilize, counting backward on the exhales until I got into a rhythm. The switch that activated my time ability appeared before me, and I started to imagine a button beneath it.

I breathed life into this button, focusing on it, again and again, watching as it changed shapes and sizes, going from almost a cartoon style to something that bordered on cyberpunk. Eventually, a circular button solidified, one that had a deep shade of green to it.

Rather than tell Lhandon what I had envisioned, and that it had solidified in my mind’s eye, I simply focus on strengthening the image, pouring more mental energy into the green button.

Finally, I blinked my eyes open to see Lhandon smiling at me. “Well?”

“I believe I have it,” I said. “Or at least, I think I do.”

“Wonderful. I’m going to perform three different gestures. I will perform them first, so you are aware of what they are. Then, I will perform them again and I want you to ‘press’ the button that you have created while I perform one of the gestures, but don’t tell me which one you pressed it on. Then you will activate your time ability, and trace the rune. Does that make sense? Worst case scenario, um, you revert back to the last time you pressed the button which I believe was in the courtyard of the monastery.”

“Let’s hope not. If all this has been done correctly, I will return to the precise moment you are performing the gesture that I’ve selected. Then we will know that the power is working.”

“Precisely. Are you ready?”

I nodded.

The first thing Lhandon did was jog around the statue. Then, he bent over and formed a snowball, which he chucked over the ledge. Finally, he cast the rune that illuminated his hand.

“Are you ready?”

“Sure,” I said, envisioning the dark green button.

Lhandon jogged around the statue. As he bent forward to start making a snowball, I pressed the green button I had imagined. He finished making his snowball and tossed it over the edge. He finally cast the rune that made his hand glow with light.

I mentally triggered my time ability. As soon as I did, I traced Ra-Mu.

Lhandon bent forward and started making a snowball, which he threw over the edge before illuminating his hand.

I triggered my time ability again by mentally flicking the switch and again traced Ra-Mu.

Suddenly, Lhandon was bent over again, gathering up snow for a snowball.

“You can stop,” I told him. “It’s working.”

“It did?”

“I’ve tested it twice now,” I said, trying to contain my excitement.

“Wonderful!” He rubbed his hands together again, beaming a smile at me. “Let’s try a few more times. Does that work for you?”

“Sure,” I said.

“And you aren’t feeling a headache coming on or anything, are you?”

I shook my head. “Not yet, I’m not. Time keeps resetting to the moments before I triggered my power, so it is like starting fresh every time I use it.”

“Great, I can’t wait to see what becomes of this. Let’s do it again.”

Chapter Twenty-One: Foolhardy Plan

I wasn’t as confident with Ra-Mu and my power as I would have liked to have been, but after practicing it with Lhandon for a while, I was starting to grow more accustomed to activating the rune. Saruul came out of the cave at some point, snacking on some dried fruit, the lioness quiet as she watched us.

I couldn’t help but give her a goofy grin every now and then, recalling how much we had already been through, from the explosive start of our relationship to her mother’s training and the way she had taken part in my rescue, Saruul finally deciding to join us on this incredible journey.

We practiced, she watched, it was nice.

Even Roger’s teasing and general loquaciousness didn’t interrupt my thoughts as we made our way back down the mountain, the Deathstone Amulet around my neck.

It wasn’t clear how I would use the relic yet, but I had a feeling it would involve going after the demons that continued to attack us, more specifically the robed man with a long mustache who first assaulted me back in the jungle of Lhasa.

That, or the Deathstone Amulet would bring me back from the dead.

As we walked, Lhandon hummed a mantra that Roger had learned in bird school.

Saruul didn’t know the mantra, so she simply walked at my side, holding hands with me at times, going ahead every so often to check out the path ahead.

Eventually, we came to the rope bridge guarded by the fiery skull.

“And your plan to get across?” Saruul asked. “Because I’m not flying again.”

“You’ve said that several times now,” Roger chimed in. “We get it. You’ll never be as cool as a bird.”

“We’re going to have to test it first,” Lhandon said, his brow furrowing, “but I do believe it will work. A battle isn’t always the best way to take down an enemy.”

“Is the monk getting philosophical about a flaming skull?” Roger asked as he landed on my shoulder.

I ignored him as Lhandon explained what he thought we should do.

It wasn’t a bad idea, and if it didn’t work, he claimed to have another plan. Plus there was always flying across, although I was with Lhandon and Saruul and their desire to try to figure something else out.

Lhandon finished his instructions and I nodded.

“Be careful,” I heard Saruul whisper.

As I had done before, I placed one hand on the rope railing, the other now on my Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers.

I looked to the other side of the bridge, and after taking a few steps toward it, the enormous skull with fiery wings appeared.

“Okay, big guy,” I said, crouching a little as I brought my fan to the ready.

The skull tilted its head forward and started to charge.

As it moved toward me, I began stroking my fan in the air.

The wind I’d created slapped into the skull, doing little to disrupt its trajectory.

But I was only swinging the fan at half power.

Once I increased the force behind my swing, the skull started to twist backward.

The only problem was that my actions were also shaking the bridge, and if I kept my fanning speed up, the bridge would likely flip over, sending me tumbling to a rocky death below. I could already feel the movement in my stomach, the butterflies starting to rise.

I quickly ran back to Lhandon and Saruul, safely on the mountain pass again.

“It works,” I said, catching my breath.

“You had that skull flying away. And fuck that skull!” Roger cackled from Saruul’s shoulder.

“But the bridge…” Saruul started to say.

“That was just a test run,” Lhandon reminded us. “Remember how it chased you to the end of the bridge last time?”

“I remember.”

“What we’ll do now is have someone who’s fast. Saruul—I’m sorry, I’m not fast— get the skull to chase you back here,” Lhandon explained as he looked from her to me. “You will then cast the Rune of Distortion and blow the skull off course. Saruul will race across the bridge as a lion, and both of us will run across after casting Ra-Mu, which will increase our speed. Sound doable?”

“That is insane,” Roger said, “but I like the monk’s thinking style.”

Saruul morphed into a lion. She stepped onto the first rung of the bridge, the skull taking notice.

Her tail slightly tucked between her legs, the lioness started walking toward the skull, her shoulders slinking with each step.

It wasn’t long before the skull gave chase, Saruul turning quickly and jogging back toward us.

I cast the Rune of Distortion, Goh-Mo, and as I did I shut my eyes, noticing that Lhandon also had his hand over his eyes.

The rune cast, I immediately opened my eyes to find Saruul charging at me, the skull starting to veer off to the right.

Saruul tackled me, and as she did I accidentally tossed the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers into the air.

The lioness started mauling me, my distortion rune clearly affecting her mind.

I didn’t have time to curse myself for not warning her, and as we struggled, I caught Roger handing my fan off to Lhandon, who took over, the monk beating the fan rapidly with his free hand tucked behind his back, so rapidly in fact it looked like he wasn’t even moving.

“Saruul!” I shouted, grabbing the lioness, trying to stop her from chomping at my face.

“Cast Ra-Mu, Nick!” Lhandon shouted.

I glanced to see that the skull was now completely away from the bridge, heading in the entirely opposite direction.

I managed to throw Saruul to the side, the lioness up in an instant, charging me with a scared look in her eyes and a bloodied maw.

Roger slammed into her, the bird knocking himself out, but hitting her hard enough to distract her momentarily.

Saruul turned her attention to Roger.

I scrambled on top of the bird, tucking him into the front of my robes. Saruul piled onto my back, her claws tearing down my flesh as I elbowed her in the face.

And rather than cast the rune, I turned to the bridge, running as fast as I could, Roger clutched to my chest.

I got a couple of rungs onto the bridge and turned, seeing that Saruul hadn’t started chasing me yet. She was staring at a rock now, confused, her ears straightening and flattening.

“Hurry, Nick!” Lhandon called, the monk already on the other side of the bridge, still using the fan, the skull floating further and further away from us.

“What happened?” Roger asked, starting to come awake.

I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt, waving it in circles above my head. That caught Saruul’s attention.

Growling, ornery as ever, the lioness gave chase.

I ran as fast as I could, managing to make it to the other side just as she threw her body forward, bringing me down, my Flaming Thunderbolt cracking against the ground and…

No.

My weapon flipped over the side of the ledge just as Saruul began to let up.

A look of realization came over her leonine face as she morphed into a human, as she noticed that her mouth and her hands were covered in blood. It only took a second for her to glance at my body and see all the bite and scratch marks to realize what she had done.

“Nick?” she asked, panic in her voice as she turned me over, as Roger pushed out of my robes.

“Just lay down,” I told her, realizing that the distortion rune may still be active. “I can... heal myself.”

“What did I do?”

“Your sword…” Lhandon said as he came to both of us. He lowered the fan, no longer interested in the skull, which didn’t seem to leave the bridge anyway.

“My head…” Roger hopped onto the ground, massaging the back of his skull with his wing. “It’s like I flew into a wall.”

“I need to heal,” I told them as I traced Healing Hand, immediately feeling the bite marks stitch themselves up. My robes were still bloodied and tattered, and as I finished up Lhandon started ruffling through his backpack, looking for a fresh set of robes.

I turned my attention to Saruul, who hung her head in shame.

“It was my rune,” I told her, the lioness now perched on her haunches. “I should have told you…”

“I could have killed you.” She started to come into my arms and then winced, her hand coming to her side. Saruul looked down, noticing a deep puncture wound just below the rib cage. “Did you stab me?”

“It was Roger,” I said. “He slammed into you.”

“I did?” Roger asked, a frightened look coming across his face. “Shit, I did! No wonder my beak feels like it’s going to pop off.”

“Let me heal you,” I told her, bringing my hand her side. Her throat quivered as she watched me heal her up, her eyes watering.

“I could have killed you, Nick,” she whispered again, her tone of voice one I had never heard from her before.

“It’s fine,” I said as I finished up. “You didn’t mean to. It’s my fault; even I knew to cover my eyes when I cast the rune. I should have said something.”

“And your sword…”

“I can see it,” Lhandon said, the monk now peering over the edge of the gorge.

“I would fly down there, but I think I need to stay grounded for a second,” Roger said.

“Is it accessible?” I asked Lhandon as I walked over to him. I bent down next to him, also looking over the side. Roger hopped over to me, and I placed my hand on his back, healing him as well.

“That’s the good stuff,” he said, ruffling his feathers.

“It’s right there,” Lhandon said, pointing down, and hooking his finger up to indicate the location, “tucked between those rocks. Can you see the fire?”

“Damn,” I whispered, seeing that my Flaming Thunderbolt was at least fifteen feet down.

“You could use your fan again,” Lhandon suggested. “Drop down, raise yourself back up, and grab it on the way up.”

“No, I can get it,” Saruul said, puffing out her chest as she walked over to the edge. She took a deep breath, looked at the bridge, hissed at the floating skull, and then glanced back down to the sword.

I tried to stop her, but by that point, she was already lowering down the other side.

“At least bring the sheath with you,” I said as I started undoing my belt.

She pulled herself back up and I took this opportunity to get between her and the edge, the butterflies rising in my stomach and settling.

“Out of the way, Nick,” she said, baring her teeth. “It’s my fault that it’s down there; I’m going to be the one that gets it.”

“I can use my fan, like Lhandon said,” I told her. “I did it before. I just need to step off the edge, lower down, and then paddle my way back up. It could take me a few tries, but—”

“—Nick, I have to do this. And I can climb, trust me. I was born in the mountains, remember? You don’t think I can climb down there, grab your sword, and climb right back up?”

“I’m not questioning your abilities,” I started to tell her.

She placed her hand on my belt. “I’m going to need this.”

“Let me…” I looked to Lhandon and nodded.

“Yes,” he said, interpreting what I was thinking, “let him at least set his rune.”

Saruul paused. “You mean what you were practicing earlier?”

I nodded and lowered to the ground to a seated position.

I took a few deep breaths in, and as I did the green button appeared.

I waited until it was stabilized and then I stood, still focused on it. I placed my hands on Saruul’s shoulders and walked her away from the ledge, just in case something happened and we had to return to this moment in time, to give me a little space between the stubborn lioness and sudden death.

Once we were away from the ledge, I mentally pressed the green button, and nodded at her. “Ready.”

“Your belt and scabbard,” she said softly.

I took my belt off and she wrapped it around her waist, all the way to the last belt loop.

Saruul made her way back over to the ledge and lowered over the side, the lioness expertly moving down from rock to rock. She got into position, and shifted to a rock on the right, nearly losing her balance before swinging her left hand up and grabbing another one.

Saruul reached the sword.

She used her feet to pull it up, followed by her tail, keeping the weapon as far away from her body as she could.

Now holding onto the rock with one hand, both her feet squarely in place, the lioness used her tail to place the sword in her hand, which allowed her to stick the flaming blade into its sheath.

She climbed back to the top, huffing as she pushed herself up, as the floating skull settled over the center of the bridge, back to its guard position.

“Let’s never do that again,” Roger said as we made our way out of the Bayan Mountains, following the same path that we had come in on, Saruul easily able to point it out even though parts of it weren’t marked.

“He is suggesting that we don’t do that again,” I translated before Lhandon could ask.

The monk couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t disagree with you there, Roger.”

“But we do need to have a better plan for when something like that happens again,” I said. “We really should have talked more about crossing the bridge before we got to it. I’m just glad that…” I shook my head. “All of us are okay, and that’s all that matters.”

“And that you have your sword back,” Roger said. He was perched on my shoulder as usual, the bird not too keen on flying yet.

“I’m just so glad I didn’t…” Saruul gulped.

“I’m glad you didn’t too,” I told her, squeezing her hand.

Our moods lightened once we reached the jungle. We took a quick breather and ate some of the dried fruit, the sugar helping a little as well. Another twenty minutes or so and we came to the stream, all of us bending down to drink from it.

The water was refreshing, a slight mineral taste to it, and once I’d had my fill I stretched my arms over my head, yawning.

“I’m right there with you, Nick. I can’t wait to nap,” Roger said as he returned my shoulder.

“A nap would be nice,” Saruul added.

“I don’t nap very well,” Lhandon told us, “but I can keep quiet and read Conversations with a Hellspawn while the three of you rest. We do have to give the book back to the monastery, and I need to pay young Tsetsen a visit. But I suppose that can wait until later. We should discuss our journey back to the capital over dinner.”

“Why don’t you nap well?” Saruul asked as we continued onward.

“When I first joined the Monastery of the Exonerated One I stupidly would find nooks and crannies to sleep in, missing out on some of my studies. The Exonerated One learned of this, and he forced me to take a nap standing up every day from that point forward.”

“I can nap standing up,” Roger chimed in, no one paying attention to him.

“And if you didn’t know, when you try to nap while standing up you generally end up falling over. It only took me a few falls to realize that napping was no longer for me.”

“That sounds cruel,” Saruul said.

“I would stab someone with a knife if they tried nap torture on me,” Roger added. “Believe that.”

“You should rest,” the lioness said softly, “especially now that you are your former teacher’s teacher. You can nap as much as you want.”

“Perhaps I will,” Lhandon said, yawning and placing his hands on his belly. “But later, always later.”

We pressed onward, pockets of the foliage turning purple. Most of the flowers hanging off the trees and vines were wet, the ground soft and springy, the sounds of birds and monkeys filling the canopy above.

We walked a bit slower than we had earlier, all of us ready to get back to civilization, most notably Roger, who seemed to comment on the jungle every few minutes.

“It’s just not my kind of jungle,” he said numerous times.

“That makes no sense,” Saruul informed him. “Jungles are jungles, just like mountains are mountains.”

“Please. Are you saying the mountains we just came from, the one with the demon skull guarding the only bridge that I saw, are the same as the Darkhan Mountains?”

“I…” She shook her head. “I see your point.”

“Exactly.”

We continued to follow the stream, where we started to notice signs of civilization. There was a wicker basket with rocks in it, a bedsheet hung over one of the branches, even a footprint in the muddy banks.

We were close.

After taking a break to drink more from the stream, we made our way through the trees that led to the brewery, Saruul’s ears instantly perking up.

“Get down,” she said, dropping to her belly.

I did the same, Lhandon slowly lowering as well.

We heard some commotion, Roger quickly taking to the air.

“They have Amraa,” he said upon his return, his feathers standing to attention on the back of his head. “Hugo’s soldiers are here.”

There was no time to second-guess what I was about to do; I pressed up to my feet, tracing the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes, and I charged forward. I launched myself over a small wooden fence and landed, my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom.

I drew my blade as I came around to the front of the brewery, where I found seven of Hugo’s soldiers.

Buka and her mother, Sarnai, were huddled together; the soldiers had Amraa on the ground, the old man on his knees.

A shout was just starting to leave my mouth when one of them drove an ax into the back of Amraa’s neck. The man didn’t make it all the way through, so he brought his arms back and hacked at Amraa’s neck again, this time going straight through and decapitating him.

The other soldiers all turned to me.

I brought my Flaming Thunderbolt to the ready, absolute fury boiling inside my gut. I barely noticed the people standing outside the brewery, nor did I pay any attention to the fact that Saruul had now joined me, even Lhandon catching up to us.

And true to his nature, it was Roger who led the fight, the bird swooping down onto some of the soldiers and batting his wings in their faces, distracting them while I charged.

I noticed my time switch appearing, but I was too enraged to actually trigger it, my first swing cutting off a man’s hand, the smell of burning flesh meeting my nostrils as his wound cauterized.

I spun around and took another man out, our weapons cracking together only once before I kicked him away, pressing my sword into an exposed section of his torso. Another man went down as Saruul in her lion form tackled him.

The man who had executed Amraa tried to charge Saruul but he was again distracted by Roger, the small bird driving his talons into the man’s eyes and shouting curse words as he did so.

I lunged forward and drove my blade just below the man’s naval and pulled it up, flames pressing out the other side.

I heard Buka scream.

I glanced at her to see one of the soldiers running toward the young girl and her mother.

My time switch filtered into shape, I triggered it, everything ground to a halt.

With a deep breath out I looked from Saruul, who was finishing off one of the soldiers, to another enemy, the man just about to engage her. I then turned to a soldier who was starting to flee, and finally to the man on the verge of attacking Buka and her mother.

It was then that I noticed a swath of saffron robes between the mother, her daughter, and impending doom.

Lhandon’s hand was charged with icy energy, his ponytail flailing in the air behind him, his palm aimed at the man’s stomach.

Time sped up.

Lhandon brought the soldier down and I went for my Cooling Fan, using it to knock the fleeing soldier off his feet and also blowing away a few of the people who had gathered to witness the commotion.

I ran toward the soldier and stabbed my blade through his back just as he tried to get up.

The townspeople started to disperse, some running, others moving away slowly, watching to see if we would do anything else.

I exchanged panicked glances with Lhandon and Saruul, Roger perfectly summing up how I felt in that moment as he lowered onto my shoulder: “Well, that was fucked.”

Chapter Twenty-Two: Redo

“There has to be a better way we can do this,” I said as my heart started to settle, an adrenaline dump coming on.

Buka continued to sob, Sarnai cradling her decapitated father’s body. The townspeople had mostly run off; I knew it wouldn’t be long before city guards started to show up in force.

“You mean…” Lhandon nodded. “It would take us back to just before Saruul retrieved your sword.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “Saruul?”

“And then we rush to get here?”

“Wait, are you talking about reversing time?” Roger asked.

“That we are,” I said. “I don’t know if it’s going to work, but it’s worth a shot.”

“When did you last set it?” he asked.

“Before Saruul got my sword.”

“That was a long time ago…”

“I’m the only one that would actually be redoing the journey, if that makes any sense.”

“So it’s like double-time for you, huh?” Roger asked.

I nodded. “That’s if it works.”

“We have to try something,” Lhandon said, registering Roger’s tone.

“How will the three of you believe me?” I asked. “I mean, sure you won't think I’m lying, but…”

“Well, there really isn’t time to write something,” Lhandon said, nodding to the road.

The city guards were starting to approach with their weapons drawn, the townspeople staying back.

“I suppose you could take his head with you,” Roger said as he gestured his wing toward Amraa’s severed head.

“Roger!” Saruul hissed.

“Seriously, what would happen? I’m no time expert here!”

“What would happen if I took his head?” I glanced from Roger, who was now on the ground near the man’s head and back to Lhandon.

“He wouldn’t have been killed yet,” Lhandon said, “so it would probably just… disappear, or something.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” I picked up Amraa’s head by the back of his hair, blood dripping from the open wound of his neck.

“What are you doing!?” Buka’s mother asked, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m fixing all of this. Trust me.”

And even though I didn’t quite trust myself, I took in a deep breath, Saruul going to address the city guards approaching us, Lhandon not far behind her. On my second breath out, the time switch appeared.

I activated my ability, everything freezing.

I traced Ra-Mu…

“Your belt and scabbard,” Saruul said softly.

I stood in front of the beautiful lioness, back on the path near the bridge in the Bayan Mountains, the floating skull in the distance and the air suddenly cold and crisp.

“What the hell?” Roger asked as I lifted Amraa’s head, the bottom of it starting to turn to pixelated dust.

“Just hear me out,” I said. “I just came back from the future…”

I paused, waiting for one of them to say something, I also realized at that moment just how stupid this sounded, as if I were borrowing a line from a 1980s movie.

The head now completely disintegrated, I returned my attention to what I was telling them. “Let me explain: we made it back to the brewery, where we found soldiers had taken Amraa’s family hostage. They decapitated Amraa.”

“They cut off his head?” Saruul gasped.

“This was our best option to get there in time and save them. In the time I just returned from, the whole village has been alerted and more city guards are coming. So if we go with that scenario, it’s bad. Especially since we killed all of Hugo’s soldiers.”

“Okay,” Lhandon said, a determined look on his face. “You can explain more on our journey back to the city. I’m guessing we need to move faster this time?”

“Yes, and…” I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Thank you for believing me.”

“You just showed up with the severed head, what else were we supposed to do?” Roger quipped.

“So I still need to get the sword, right?” Saruul asked.

I looked down at my belt to see that the sword was missing.

Weird, but in a way it made sense.

“Yes, you will successfully be able to get it,” I told her as I handed her the belt and scabbard. “Get the sword, and then let’s book it.”

“Book it?” Lhandon asked, an eyebrow raised at me.

“It means let’s move quickly. We can cast our Ra-Mu if we are running out of time, and we can always come back to this point, or at least I can.”

“Yes,” he said as Saruul scaled down the side of the cliff. “Did we rest before or something?”

“A little, but we also just walked slowly. If we can get to the brewery sooner, we can stop soldiers from killing Amraa. We may still have to battle them, and we may need to think of a way to get out of the city.”

Lhandon considered this for a moment. “There is always the option of a boat.”

“The lioness isn’t going to like that option,” Roger said.

“It may be the fastest way,” I told him, “especially if we need to leave the city quickly. Amraa will know what to do. But we have to get to them in time.”

Saruul returned, and handed me my sword and its scabbard.

“I can charge ahead,” she suggested, the lioness still catching her breath.

“Me too,” Roger said. “I’ll go with her, and you and Lhandon can catch up with us. At least we get the family away from the brewery, and if the soldiers are already there, we can fight them off. Nick, my knife.”

I reached down to my boot and retrieved Roger’s knife.

“Also, the knife is heavy, so do you mind if I ride you?” Roger asked Saruul. “Just this once?”

“Is that some type of fantasy of yours?” she asked.

Roger tried not to grin. “I mean, I’m not saying it’s a fantasy per se, but it’s definitely something I have thought about. Come on, lioness, teamwork!”

Saruul shook her head as she began morphing into her snow lion form, her white fur and black stripes taking shape. Roger settled onto her shoulders, holding onto her with his talons, his knife now in his beak, held by its tassel and partially balanced on one of his wings. She growled a little, Roger mumbled for her to chill out, and they took off.

“Try to keep up,” I told Lhandon as I started jogging after them.

He did his best, but the monk had never been the fastest member of our small group.

Even with Lhandon moving slower than I would have liked, we were able to get down the mountain in record time, especially now that we were aware of what lay ahead.

“I’m getting hungry,” he said, breathing heavily now.

“Me too,” I told him.

We reached the jungle and made our way down to the stream, eating dried fruit as we powerwalked, everything on the periphery a blur yet tinged with familiarity.

It was an odd sensation.

I wasn’t quite paying attention to our surroundings, but I was aware of them, and every time I did take a look, I got that strange sense I had been here before.

Because of course I had.

It was when we were starting to reach the end of the jungle that I heard some commotion. Saruul came running toward me in her lion form, Buka riding her back while Amraa and Sarnai were guided by Roger, the bird clutching his knife.

“Have the soldiers shown up yet?” I asked.

Roger dropped his knife to the ground, which I swiftly put in my boot. Buka hopped off Saruul, allowing her to return to her human form.

“They’re just now getting there,” Roger said, breathing hard. “But I don’t think they saw us.”

“And you say they will kill me, Exalted One?” Amraa asked, looking to Lhandon with terror on his face. “Are you a fortune-teller? That’s what the snow lioness said.”

“Not exactly,” Lhandon said, taking over in a calm, yet breathy voice. “We, um, ran into a hermit in the mountains, one with fiery wings. He had an amulet that told the future, and he told us that we needed to hurry here to save you.”

“But she said…”

“He’s right,” Saruul told Amraa. “I meant that the hermit was the fortune teller.”

“The brewery,” Amraa said, looking to Sarnai. “If they were coming to kill me, they may burn it down or worse, drink all our chung!”

“We won’t let that happen,” I told him. “But before we go there, I need to know the fastest way back to Ganbold.”

“The fastest way would be by boat,” he said, his daughter nodding in agreement.

“And how often do the boats leave?” I asked.

“I rode a lion!” Buka said, now holding her mother’s hand.

“Boats leave quite often. Your best bet would probably be one of the overnight boats carrying passengers from Minjin, which is a coastal community in the Kingdom of Rinpunga. I have some friends down there at the docks. One of the guys that runs the shipyard is named Batmonkh. I went to grade school with that old fart and he owes me a favor.”

“We won’t let them destroy the brewery,” I said, my hand going to my Flaming Thunderbolt. “But we will need you to lead us to the docks as soon as we finish up here.”

“Certainly, save our brewery and especially our chung, and I’ll do anything I can do to help.”

“Let’s disguise ourselves,” Lhandon said suddenly.

“Good call; I have the perfect disguise,” I told him, imagining my old friend’s face.

Lhandon traced the rune that allowed him to change a person’s features. Sarnai and Amraa gasped once they saw my new face, my short dark hair, my chiseled features.

“Damn,” Roger said from the branch he was perched on. “You’re bringing back some terrible memories, Nick.”

“I don’t even think we will have to fight them if I go with this look,” I said. “Lhandon?”

His features began to change as well, Lhandon’s face morphing to the scar-faced monk who ran the monastery in Zol, the one who had assaulted him.

“Let’s handle this,” he said.

Lhandon and I approached the brewery, where we quickly saw that there were several guards in front of it. We found the side gate and let ourselves in. As we approached, the men at the front placed their hands on their weapons.

That was, until one of them recognized my face.

“Emperor Hugo?” one of them stuttered, instantly lowering his weapon. He got down on his knees, bowing. The other two soldiers did the same.

“The man you are looking for is not here,” I informed the soldiers in my best Hugo impression, even though I assumed they didn’t know what he sounded like. “He is currently making his way through the jungle back to Anand, and you’re letting him get away.”

“Anand? Through the jungle?” one of the soldiers asked. The other soldier whispered something about how Emperor Hugo came here so suddenly and was quickly shushed.

Two more soldiers came out of the brewery, one with a mug of chung in his hand.

“I did not say you could steal their chung!” I scolded the soldier.

“Emperor Hugo?” the soldier asked, spitting out the alcohol.

The other soldiers filed out of the brewery, including the one with the big ax, who immediately threw his mug of chung over his shoulder.

“I want all of you to leave the city at once,” I told the soldiers. “You are to make your way through the jungle searching for these treasonous dogs.”

“Treasonous dogs?” Landon asked under his breath.

“Go with it,” I whispered.

“You will also perform prostrations, two hundred per day,” Lhandon said firmly, “as a way to repent for your sheer incompetence. You are not to steal from local businesses! You are lucky our Emperor doesn’t have you stuffed full of rocks and tossed into the ocean.”

“Damn,” I said, watching as the soldiers bristled.

“Yes, Emperor,” a few of them said, getting down to their knees. Only the man with the ax didn’t kneel, the beefy soldier gracefully bowing his head instead.

The group of soldiers took off. Once we were sure they were gone, Lhandon and I returned to the edge of the jungle. Buka ran up and hugged me immediately, Sarnai quietly apologizing.

“Your brewery should be fine,” I said to Amraa and Sarnai. “But we need to get out of Zol as soon as possible.”

Amraa gave me a smile as he rubbed his hands together. “Leave that part to me and my dear old friend.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: You’ve Got a Friend in Me

“Batmonkh, you stinking, no good, dirty sailor,” Amraa said as soon as we entered a small hut, where we found a man seated on the floor playing a game that looked like a simplified version of mahjong. There was a single table beneath a weathered window, and a large wool carpet on the floor that looked like it used to be bright red.

The seated man was around the same age as Amraa but much heavier, with a constellation of moles around his neck. He had quite the gut yet his arms were muscled and tan, his skin two shades darker than Amraa’s, his fingers and knuckles yellow and dry.

“What!?” the man, who I assumed was Batmonkh, shouted. He pressed his game away, a grin taking shape on his face. “What did I tell you about hanging out with queefing good-for-nothing monks and snow lions? I hate to break it to you all, but Amraa here isn’t going to pay you whatever he promised he’d pay you to hang out with him and pretend you’re his friends. You don’t have any friends, Amraa. Everyone in Zol knows that.”

“I have you,” Amraa said as he helped his old friend up, both of them laughing.

“Ha! You have me like I had your sister.”

“What did you say?” Amraa grabbed the front of the man’s kurta, pulling him in close.

“So that’s how this is going to be, huh?” Batmonkh growled. “You come in here smelling like last week’s fermented belch with a pair of monks, a lion queen, and… Is that a bird?”

“That’s right,” Roger told him. “And if you two would wrap your little banter up, we got places to go and emperors to kill.”

“Mouthy little fucker, isn’t he?” Batmonkh asked Amraa. “Now where was I? Were we talking about your sister? What was her name again? I think it rhymed with bang-hole.”

“I told you not to say anything about her!” Amraa said, shoving his friend away.

Batmonkh lifted his fists. “Careful, or I’ll give you the same fist I gave her!”

“Don’t make me give you a whooping before I ask you for a favor,” Amraa said as he also brought his fists up.

“Gentlemen, I believe there are better ways for us to solve our differences,” Lhandon said, stepping in.

Both Amraa and Batmonkh looked to Lhandon and nearly fell over laughing.

“You thought we were really going to fight?” Batmonkh asked, out of breath now. The big man was bent over, his face red from laughter. “I guess they don’t teach reading body language in monk school, do they?”

“Your body language tells me that you’re going to fight…”

“Look how confused he is,” Batmonkh said, still trying to stop himself from laughing. “We aren’t going to fight, and if we did, I would kick his ass anyway. He knows that.”

“Like hell, you would,” Amraa growled, shaking a fist at the heavyset man. “Maybe twenty years ago you would have given me a run for my money, but the only thing your fat ass is kicking is the waiter’s leg if he is late with your second helping!”

“And he doesn’t even have a sister; we can thank the gods for that,” Batmonkh said. “The last thing we need is a lady walking around here as ugly as this guy.”

“Yeah?” Amraa asked. “Well if I did have a sister, she would still be too good for you.”

“Too good for this?” Batmonkh drummed his hands on his belly. “Because you would be surprised how many young ladies like to rest their heads on my gut, listening to the illustrious orchestra that is my nightly stomach rumbling.”

“If you keep holding all those farts in, you’re going to explode!”

“Aye, there are worst fates than death by farts,” Batmonkh told Amraa, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow. “Okay, okay, let’s stop talking about bodily functions. There’s a lady present.”

“Thank you,” Saruul said, her eyebrows slowly lowering.

“No, please, go on, I understand now that this is supposed to be funny and I will try to laugh along as if I’m entertained,” Roger said.

“What can I do for you?” Batmonkh asked, ignoring Roger.

“We need to get them to Ganbold as soon as possible,” Amraa said, his voice suddenly devoid of the jovial tone he had started the conversation with. “And no one can know about it.”

Batmonkh nodded, and as he did his cheeks jiggled. “Do you mind if I ask why?”

“We do,” Saruul said.

“Let’s just say they want to pay the Emperor a visit,” Amraa told his old friend.

“In that case, maybe the less I know, the better,” he said, his cheeks sinking into his jowls as a cold look came over his face. “There’s a ship that leaves tonight. Did anyone see you come here?”

“No, we came through the jungle,” Amraa said.

“You always were a little jungle rat, weren’t you?”

“It’s the only place I can get away from your stink,” Amraa said, starting to smile again.

“Ha! Just wait until the next moon festival; I’ll be sure to aim any stinks I can conjure up in the direction of the jungle.”

“The people of the city depend on the jungle for sustenance,” Amraa said, ripping into his friend again. “You don’t want to be responsible for countless deaths. Think of the karma.”

Batmonkh turned to his open book on the table just beneath the shack’s only window. The pages were brittle; it looked like it had been dropped in the water a few times. He licked his finger and flipped a few pages over, snorting as he found the information he was looking for. “Yep, just as I suspected: this guy owes me a favor. Hell, he owes me more than one. If you are going to pull this off, however, you’re going to need to change clothes.”

I looked at Lhandon in his saffron robes, and remembered I was wearing something similar, with a scarf wrapped around my head because I was still waiting for Emperor Hugo’s visage to fade away. I was pretty sure it was gone by now, but I had kept the scarf on just to be sure.

“Don’t worry, I have stuff you can wear,” Batmonkh said, waving away our concern.

“I haven’t worn regular clothing in…” Lhandon bobbed his head left and right. “At least thirty years, maybe even a bit longer.”

“Is that so? In the end, rags are rags. I definitely have something that will fit the monk, but not you,” he said, pointing his fat finger at me. “So it’s going to be a little baggy.”

“You want them to wear your clothing?” Saruul asked, trying to hide the skepticism she was feeling.

“Not just them, lioness, you too. I’m guessing the bird can hide in some of your clothes. Basically, I need the three of you to get down to the ship without anyone suspecting anything. After you arrive in Ganbold, you can change for all I care.”

Saruul made a soft sound with her throat. “Is your clothing clean?”

“Yes,” Roger said. “I second that question.”

Batmonkh grinned, revealing to us that he was missing a couple teeth. “Does a peckerhead run a brewery with his practically mute daughter on the outskirts of town selling piss that he claims is chung? Does this practically mute daughter have a daughter herself who is just about the cutest thing in the five kingdoms?”

Amraa snorted.

“I… I don’t know the answer to that,” Saruul said.

“Yes, you do,” Batmonkh said, still teasing her. “The guy I’m referring to is right here, and I get it, I know that if you were in your lion form, you wouldn’t want to eat him because he’d be all skin and bones. Makes sense. You would prefer me, somebody with a little meat and fat, something that has been tenderized in the sun.”

“I…”

“—Yes, whatever we have to do,” Lhandon said, taking over for Saruul, who hadn’t yet figured out how to respond to the old sailor.

“Good, I know my shack here doesn’t look that big, but like most things on the Island Kingdom, it’s all about peeling back the layers.” He kicked his foot against a carpet, revealing a fairly large trapdoor. Batmonkh used a cane to lift the trapdoor. “Trust me, it’s bigger inside than it looks,” he said as he started to make his way down.

I exchanged glances with Lhandon and Saruul.

“Sure, let’s go into the pirate’s trapdoor,” Roger cleared his throat. “After hearing these two talk, I believe that my last statement there may have some sexual innuendo to it. That was not my intention, but if you would like to laugh now, please do so.”

Rather than laugh, Saruul made her way down the stairs followed by Lhandon and me, Amraa staying up the top.

Roger dropped onto my shoulder. “I guess I’m not as funny as those guys...”

“I’ll let you guys sort it out from here,” Amraa called down to us. “Enjoy his fart dungeon, and good luck on your mission! Remember: I never saw you, and you never saw me.”

“Be gone, jungle rat!” I heard Batmonkh call up to him. “And stop quoting lines to them that I used to use on your sister!”

To my surprise, the space beneath the shack was absolutely immaculate, light coming in from portholes in the ceiling, everything spick-and-span, very few decorations aside from a large map of the five kingdoms on the opposite wall, a seating area, a quaint kitchen, and an additional room off to the side.

“Have a seat,” Batmonkh said, motioning toward the seating area that had a bench and two additional chairs, images of ships carved into their wooden backs. “I just did laundry yesterday, so I should have something fresh for all of you,” Batmonkh said, his earlier salty pirate demeanor shifting to something a bit more eloquent. “I was planning on making a stew tonight, but I can start early. You will be in Ganbold by morning, and trust me, you’re going to want to eat before you get on the ship.”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Lhandon said, still in shock at how nice the underground room was. “Is there anything that we can help you with?”

“Yes, just let us know,” Saruul added.

“Help me?” Batmonkh chuckled. “No, just relax. I know where everything is, and you might not believe this, but I’m sort of a clean freak. So I’d rather take care of things myself. Also, if my earlier banter offended any of you, I apologize. For some reason, whenever I see Amraa, I revert back to the person I was thirty years ago. It is almost like a spell has been cast on both of us.”

“That’s some spell,” Roger said as he landed on the headrest of one of the chairs.

Lhandon took a seat on the wooden bench. “It’s fine. And we really appreciate your help and hospitality. I hope the karmic benefits far outweigh the trouble you will go through to help us.”

“Trouble?” Batmonkh smiled. “It’s no trouble, it never has been, and it never will be.”

I was surprised when we were given one of the nicer rooms of the ship, definitely not below deck this time around.

According to Batmonkh, this particular ship, which was known as the Glimmering Sea Ruby, was mainly used by wealthy tourists from Minjin, which was a coastal community of vacation homes located in the Kingdom of Rinpunga.

It wasn’t quite like being on a cruise ship—there were no water slides or much entertainment aside from a bard in the eatery below deck—but it was definitely comfortable.

Our room had four cushioned bunks, complimentary snacks and chung, a magnificent view of the sea complete with a small yet well-thought-out writing nook positioned before it.

This was where Lhandon ended up spending most of his evening, still looking over Conversations with a Hellspawn, the book we had yet to return to the monastery in Zol.

Predictably, Lhandon wasn’t keen on the karma associated with stealing a book, and to offset this, he planned to have it returned at some point in the future, likely when he sent someone to visit the Exonerated One’s reincarnation.

Since Lhandon didn’t really have anyone for his future temple, I figured that someone would end up being Altan, who would likely become Lhandon’s first disciple. Then again, things could change greatly between now and the point that the journey was even feasible.

Happy to have a bunk for himself, Roger was quiet through the night, allowing Lhandon to study until he fell asleep at the desk, Saruul and me sharing one of the bottom bunks.

No dreams, restful sleep, no choppy waves, quiet neighbors—my kind of night.

Breakfast service was announced in the morning, followed by a message reminding us that we were close to the port of Ganbold. The message was piped into our room through a tube, and it wasn’t long before breakfast was delivered to our door, meaning that we never had to leave, nor did Lhandon need to use his rune to disguise my face.

“So what’s the plan again?” Roger asked as he finally decided to join us. “Because I got places to go, and people to see.”

Saruul laughed. “No, you don’t.”

“Maybe you’re right, but I’d still like to know what the plan is.”

We were seated at a small eating nook near the door, which was a bit cozy, but managed to fit the three of us. There was a full spread of fruit and pastries before us, all the pastries warm, buttery, and crispy.

“We’ll wait for everyone to leave the ship,” Lhandon said as he finished his pastry, “then I will cast my rune and we’ll be on our way. I still have some promissory notes left, so perhaps we could use those to convince someone to hide us. I’m sure there is a person in the city with a spare room that would be willing to take a risk, especially if they don’t know who we are. Remember, they’re looking for Nick.”

“And me,” Saruul said.

“We can disguise your features some with the spare clothing we have,” Lhandon said. Both of us were in our saffron robes now, the clothing we had used to smuggle ourselves onto the ship stuffed into Lhandon’s bag. “Is there a way that you can wrap your tail around your body or something?”

Saruul shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Yes, that’s something I can do.”

“And we can cover your ears. They won’t know the difference. If anyone asks, we can say that you are a nun.”

“A nun with weird bumps on her head,” Roger cackled. “That won’t raise any suspicions.”

“Once we get situated, we’ll decide how we want to move on Hugo,” I said. “And I know I’ve already said this, but this is my fight. The three of you don’t have to come with me.”

“We’re coming, Nick,” Saruul said.

“For once, I’m with the lioness,” Roger chirped.

Lhandon simply nodded, interpreting Roger’s reply.

The ship creaked as it came into the dock, trembling a little before finally becoming still. I looked out the window to see that we were facing away from the city, the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see, the sun out but partially hidden by a clump of dark clouds.

We waited, the sounds of people moving in the cabin above us and in the hallway outside our door echoing into our room. Lhandon meditated while we waited, and once the noises started to dissipate, his eyes came open. “Nick, are you ready?”

“I am,” I said, envisioning the jowly face of Batmonkh, the man who had helped us secure this cabin.

“Of all faces…” Saruul said as soon as Lhandon was done rearranging my face.

“It’s only for thirty minutes,” I reminded her as we stepped out into the hallway, the ship quaking a little as we walked.

We came out onto the main deck to see one of the men who worked on the ship motioning us toward a walkway. He carried an annoyed look that told us that we’d loitered for too long, the man gathering up rope as we moved past him.

The first thing we noticed upon coming to the exit of the ship was just how quiet the port was.

Aside from a few of the passengers from Rinpunga, all in dark blue clothing, the port was practically empty. We came to the lone city guard at the end of the rampway, who simply asked us why we were visiting Ganbold, Lhandon replying that we were here for religious reasons.

The guard chuckled at that and waved us on.

Once we were past the guard, and onto the part of the Ganbold dock that was connected to the land, Lhandon stopped in front of a series of weathered shacks, many with bright blue banners in their windows.

“You sense that, right?” he asked Saruul, who now had a swath of brown fabric draped over her head.

“Something’s not right.”

“You can now smell trouble in the air?” Roger asked, who was tucked under my robes, his head popping out.

“No,” Saruul said, even though her nostrils flared wide, “but I can sense it.”

“Well, guys, it looks like my usefulness will now…” Roger shook his head. “I didn’t think about the structure of that sentence before I said it. Let me try again: well, guys, I suppose I will humbly prove my usefulness yet again.”

Roger transitioned to my shoulder, the bird just starting to flap his wings when Lhandon stopped him.

“They may recognize you,” the monk said. “You were with Nick when he met Hugo. I still have yet to see a bird like you on this island.”

“The first thing you said is a possibility, the second thing is a fact, and the third thing is also a fact, but I will take the third bit as a compliment.”

“He’s right,” I told Roger. “If they recognize you, and who knows what they have been told to watch out for, Hugo will know that we are in the city. They may even try to shoot you down.”

“We saw what happened last time someone tried to shoot me down,” Roger said, even as he landed back on my shoulder. “But maybe you’re right; maybe it’s better this way.”

We moved into a shadow cast by a building made of brick with a top crafted from corrugated steel, dried palm fronds hanging from its edges.

There were crates of food in the alley near us and one of them had been forced open. Seagulls circled above in the air, and a few had already landed, taking as much as they could from the open container while no one was there to shoo them away.

“Bottom feeders, the lot of them,” Roger said with a groan. “Actually, I really can’t blame them for taking advantage of the stupidity of humans. And seriously, do you see that one?”

“Which one?” I asked.

Roger motioned toward a particular seagull to the right of the crates, who hopped in front of a metal pole, occasionally tapping its beak against the pole. “My friends, I would like to introduce you to the dumbest seagull on the island.”

“He just likes shiny things,” Saruul said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Are you talking about the seagulls?” Lhandon asked. “Because if you are…”

“Wait a minute,” Roger said, averting Lhandon’s enthusiastic gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Roger, I believe this is your chance to make amends with your biases,” the monk said, his voice suddenly persuasive. “I would like you to go to one of the seagulls and ask them what is going on here in Ganbold, and why the streets are so empty. Perhaps one will do a fly-around for us.”

“You have got to be kidding me…”

“No, Roger, it’s a great idea,” Saruul said, looking at him innocuously. “Don’t you want to make some new friends? You always are saying how you don’t have enough friends.”

“Damn you, lioness, you know that’s not true! Stop filling the monk’s head with lies.” Roger slowly lifted off my shoulder. He landed again. “Nope, I’m not going to do it. They won’t be helpful, and it’ll just be a waste of my time.”

“Do it…” I told him. “Come on, how hard can it be?”

“How hard can it be to deal with a bunch of rowdy, inbred seagulls? Gee, I don’t know, Nick, how hard you think it could be?”

“It is a good karmic practice,” Lhandon assured him. “If they are rude to you, at least we have tried. No harm in that.”

“Okay,” Roger said, rising into the air again, “but you guys are going to see just how fucked in the head seagulls can be.”

He swooped up and slowly lowered down onto one of the crates.

After a long pause, Roger hopped along the ledge until he was closer to one of the fluffy white seabirds.

Before he could say anything, the nearest seagull turned its rear to Roger, and projectile shat in his direction.

Roger swiped the seagull’s shit away with his wing, a disgusted look on his face as he wiped as much of it onto the crate as he could.

He started squawking at the seagull, a few others circling above now, more sending bird feces in his direction.

Roger flapped his wings in the air, a couple of them zipping away. He kept trying to talk to them, and when that didn’t work he returned to me.

“Nick, my knife,” he said, some bird crap still on his wing.

“What is he asking for?”

“I do not think that’s a good idea,” I told Roger, ignoring Lhandon’s question.

“Nick, my knife,” Roger said a humiliated look on his face. “My knife.”

I obliged, and once I got the knife out of my boot I handed it to Roger, who took its tassel with his talons.

“You’re giving him a weapon?” Lhandon asked.

“Let’s just see what he does…”

“This is a terrible idea,” Saruul said, “but I must admit, I am also interested to see what he does as well. Bird drama is entertaining.”

“This was not what I was hoping would happen here…”

“You and me both, monk,” Roger said as he flew off again.

Rather than land this time, he circled around the air with his dangling knife, threatening the seagulls, all of them scattering, especially after one of them got nicked by Roger’s sharp blade.

Once they were gone, he dropped his knife and landed on the edge of the crate.

Roger looked down to see that the same dimwitted seagull pecking at the metal pipe, oblivious to his recent actions.

Lhandon sighed. “We’re going to have to think of a new idea, aren’t we?”

“Let’s wait to see how this turns out…” I said as Roger landed next to the lone seagull.

He started squawking at it; the seagull turned its head to Roger and looked at him curiously with its beady black eyes.

Roger made a gesture that seemed to say, ‘wait right here,’ and swiftly returned to us.

“We got ourselves a real dumb seagull,” Roger said hurriedly, “one that likes shiny things. I need something shiny to give him, and then he’ll do a quick patrol for us. Who has something shiny? Not my knife, something else, something smaller.”

“He needs something shiny,” I translated for Lhandon.

“Is he making friends with the seagull?”

“Hardly. This seagull is just an idiot and he thinks that I am a seagull who is, for some reason, about the size of a baby seagull with turquoise and yellow feathers instead of white,” Roger replied, even though Lhandon couldn’t understand him. “Like I said, not bright. Chop, chop, friends, I need to give him something shiny before he forgets what I have asked him to do and flies off.”

“He really needs something shiny,” I translated for Lhandon.

“We really don’t have anything that’s shiny, aside from…” Lhandon considered this for a moment. “I suppose it is shiny in its own way. What about one of the black pearls I purchased?”

“Black pearl, pink pearl, white pearl, fake pearl—it doesn’t matter. If it’s shiny, that bird will like it.” Roger tilted his beak in the direction of the seagull in question, who was back to pecking at the metal pole.

“Yeah, that will work,” I told Lhandon. The monk reached into his robes and retrieved his satchel of black pearls. He gave one to Roger, who took it in his beak over to the seagull.

Roger set it on the ground and continued his negotiation with the creature.

The seagull finally nodded, and before it took off, it went for the black pearl, keeping it in its beak as it flew away.

“Now, we just sit back and wait,” Roger said once he rejoined us. “The poor sap is going to do a loop around the city and tell us what he sees. If we want anything else, we’re going to have to cough up more pearls. Happy, Lhandon? Does it make you happy now that I’ve had to humiliate myself? Does it bring you joy that I got shat upon multiple times for some karmic reason? Speaking of which, I think I will fly to the ocean and clean off real quick.”

“What’s he saying?” Lhandon asked.

“He’s saying that the seagull will return once he has done a loop around the city, and that he is happy to have made amends with the seagull race,” I said, Saruul’s snickering making it impossible not to smile.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lhandon said with a warm smile. “It’s always good to face one’s enemies with an open heart.”

Chapter Twenty-Four: Public Execution

“That seagull is not coming back,” Roger said after we had waited about thirty minutes. “You know it, I know it, and that seagull knows it.”

“Maybe we should wait just a little bit longer,” Saruul suggested.

“Careful, lioness, optimism is toxic. How hard is it to admit that the bastard took the shiny thing and ran, I mean flew, off somewhere? Do you see what I get for listening to the monk?”

Lhandon paced back and forth, the four of us still in the alley,  the smell of fish heavy in the air.

“We have to figure out what’s going on in the city,” I said, “which means will need to ask someone. And if they don’t know, possibly take a look for ourselves, as dangerous as that may be.”

“I will cast my rune,” Lhandon said hurriedly. “We were planning on leaving here, right? I am starting to get the feeling that the seagull isn’t going to return; I’m assuming that is what Roger was talking about.”

“That’s the gist of it,” I told him.

“Do you have a face you would like to use?” Lhandon asked me as he started to prepare his hand and the string the characters needed for this particular spell.

I started to think of Altan’s face, nodding at Lhandon when I had a clear picture of his chiseled features in my mind. His rune cast, Lhandon then turned his attention to himself, again going with the visage of the scar-faced monk.

Saruul fixed her scarf over her head to mostly cover her ears, again attempting to tuck her tail under her robes. “I don’t like doing this,” she said as she tightened up, an uncomfortable look on her face.

“This was why I suggested getting clothing back in Anand,” Roger said as he landed on my shoulder. “I suppose I should clarify: I meant clothing for me in that last statement. I don’t have an answer for you and your tail. But ask yourself this: who would recognize me if I was wearing say, one of those loose-fitting shirts they wear around here, or even a hat of sorts?”

“Birds don’t need clothing,” Saruul said. “Especially hats.”

“Yet you were with me at the market in Dornod helping me get a fur vest,” he shot back. “You’re sending a mixed message here.”

“Let’s just try to find someone first,” I said, interrupting their banter, “and try to see if we can figure out what’s going on. If we have to do something further, we can address it at that point.”

“Right,” Lhandon said, taking the lead.

We made our way to the main thoroughfare, walking up an incline toward the Emperor’s Palace, which I could already see, the grounds hidden by an enormous gray stone wall that sparkled in the sun. The gift shops and tourist spots that had been set up in front of the palace the last time we’d visited were nonexistent, a few of them with patchwork cloths draped over their booths to conceal their wares. Others were simply gone.

“There’s a guard up there,” Roger said who was tucked under my robes, perched on my shoulder as if he were a lump.

“Good, let’s ask him.”

“Maybe Lhandon should go,” Roger told Saruul. “Just in case it’s one of the guards that was there when Nick and I visited the palace.”

Saruul translated this message to Lhandon, who swiftly made his way over to the guard after adjusting his girth. He tried to walk in a friendly way, bouncing a bit more than usual.

They spoke, the guard a little confused as to how Lhandon didn’t know what was going on, evident in the incredulous look he was giving the monk.

Lhandon returned to us, fear now painted across his disguised face.

“What is it?” Saruul started asking.

“Sukhbat the Precious Heart Gem…” Lhandon bit his lip. “What an absolutely terrible fate!”

“Did Hugo find out about us staying at his monastery?” I asked.

“He did, and now they, and by ‘they’ I mean most of the city, have gathered at the public square to witness his execution,” Lhandon said, his face suddenly pale.

“How did they find out?” Saruul asked.

“I can only speculate, but my guess would be one of the other monks…”

“Snitching little monks,” Roger said with a grunt. “This world is a cesspool for iniquity.”

“Then…” I bit my lip, considering our other options. Sukhbat had gone to extreme lengths to help us, and it was only natural that we helped him in return.

But doing so would blow our cover in front of an entire city, and who knew how many guards there would be in the public square.

“We have to…” Lhandon said.

“I know we do,” I told him.

Lhandon nodded, accepting his fate. “Nick, I think it’s time we set a marker.”

“Good call.”

“That’s right,” Roger said, “I almost forgot about being able to do that. We should be good, then. You can just keep trying out a solution until you get it right. Easy!”

“But what if there is no solution? And from what Lhandon and I have uncovered, the marker resets itself every twenty-four hours, so if we end up going with one of the solutions in which Sukhbat dies, and enough time passes, I won’t be able to return to this point.”

“There has to be a solution,” Saruul said, coming to my side and placing her hand on my arm. “Now is not the time to doubt yourself.”

“She’s right, Nick. Let’s position ourselves where the guards can’t see us,” Lhandon said under his breath, “and then you can set the marker. I only hope that they haven’t already executed him.”

The four of us moved further and further away from the palace gates, until we came to a tannery, the smell of fresh leather reaching my nostrils. We stepped to the back of the building, which was partially concealed by a few hides hanging from thick ropes. There were a few stumps back here that they used to dry leather on.

Saruul and Lhandon each took a stump, Roger perched on one of the thick ropes hanging between the buildings.

“Okay,” I said as I dropped to the cobblestone ground, which was stained with various leather dyes. I began by taking deep breaths all the way to the back of my skull. The time switch appeared first, and the green button that activated my marker took shape.

I focused on the green button for a moment, steadying my breath.

It pulsed and solidified, the image strengthening as I mentally pressed it.

“Good,” I said as I got to my feet. “Everything should be set.”

We reached the back of the crowd, the Ganbold city square absolutely brimming with activity. It was the most people I had seen gathered in one place in this world, thousands and thousands of them, all with their focus on a high stage that had been erected at the far end of the square.

Some of the vendors who would have normally been outside the palace gates were here as well, selling fried foods, monoculars, and city banners, many of the people waving them in the air.

Without modern technology, I assumed it would be impossible to amplify voices, but as I soon learned, there was a rune for that.

“...A leader wants only loyalty, and when this bond of trust is broken, a leader must act,” Hugo said, his voice amplified to a level where it was almost overpowering.

I was able to make him out on the stage, Hugo wearing armor with gold accents, the serpent crown still on his head.

People in the crowd started to cheer and wave their banners, especially when Sukhbat was brought out, the hefty monk standing with his head bowed. I noticed pools of reflective crimson dripping off the side of the stage next to a stack of bodies, all of them wearing orange robes.

“You seem to have enjoyed our return to loyalty so far,” Hugo told those gathered for the public execution, “as it is through the loss of blood that those who have betrayed our country redeem themselves, their deaths purifying their spirits and aiding in a good rebirth.”

“Why do evil assholes always have to give some impassioned yet nonsensical speech?” Roger asked from the safety of my robes. “Is it the same in your world too?”

“Actually, yes, I do believe it is.”

“We can’t let him kill the Precious Heart Gem,” Lhandon said, and as I turned to him I saw that his features were starting to change back to normal.

“Nick, your face,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter now; let’s just go with this,” I said. “Remember, we can redo it if we need to. And you’re right,” I said, now ignoring Hugo’s diatribe, “we have to do something.”

“… It brings me no pleasure to kill one of the Island Kingdom’s most important and reputable monks, but the punishment for treason is death, and there can be no other way. Some would say that I am granting him mercy by allowing his soul to be purified through this loss of blood. Hopefully, the Precious Heart Gem will rebirth with the knowledge that betrayal is the ultimate sin…”

I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom and held it over my head as I pressed past the citizens of Ganbold, the crowd parting once they saw my weapon.

It was then that Hugo noticed us running through the crowd, my flaming sword held high overhead. People continued to move out of the way, fumbling over one another as his guards started to form at the front of the stage.

“Hugo!” I yelled, beating my sword into the air, dollops of fire licking off the blade. “I challenge you!”

“Let him pass,” Hugo said firmly, and when his guards wouldn’t move, he stepped down from the stage, pushing them out of his way as he made his way to me.

The crowd formed a circle around us now, giving us plenty of space to settle this. I stopped, Lhandon and Saruul behind me, Roger dropping to the ground near my boot. “My knife, Nick, quick,” he said.

I drew and dropped his knife, leaving it on the ground.

Roger took its tassel in his beak.

“I gave you a chance, Nick,” Hugo smiled as he reached his hand out, one of his guards placing a spear in his open palm. “And apparently, you have decided to make this easy for me.” He twirled his spear once before getting into an attack position. “Do you have anything to say for yourself before challenging the Emperor of the Island Kingdom of Jonang?”

The air was electric, the crowd gathered around simmering with anticipation.

I slowly brought my Flaming Thunderbolt to the ready.

Before placing my other hand around the hilt of my sword, I traced the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes. I would start here, and possibly move to the Rune of Distortion if it was warranted.

Even though I could turn back time, I still had to be careful not to die.

There was the Deathstone Amulet, but I didn’t want to use that on this death; I wanted to save it for something else, and if I wasn’t able to stop time and trace Ra-Mu…

“Well?” Hugo asked. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Let’s get this over with.”

I charged forward with my sword overhead.

It met Hugo’s spear, both his hands on his spear as he swept my legs out from beneath me and attempted to pierce my chest, the tip of his spear bouncing off, his first strike absorbed.

I leaped into the air, bringing my sword back and stabbing it forward, the flames igniting as they reached Hugo’s armor, the fire instantly dissipating. He caught my neck with his free hand and drove me to the ground so hard that I left a small crater.

I rolled out of the way, knowing that I had just one more chance before I needed to activate my rune.

As I got to my feet, I looked to see Hugo’s crown glowing, the snake’s red eyes bright as lasers.

He chucked his spear at me; it struck me in the heart and bounced back. I heard Saruul cry out behind me; I saw a flash of turquoise in the air to my left.

I mentally activated my time switch, shock coming across my face as I saw that Hugo was still moving at his normal speed, going for his spear with a determined look on his face.

I cast Ra-Mu, barely managing to trace the rune before Hugo drove his spear straight through my chest.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Demon Bull

We raced to the square.

I didn’t bother to tell Lhandon, Saruul, or Roger that I had reset time, that this was my second go-around.

Rather than kickstart any banter, or mention to Lhandon that his disguise had started to fade, I raised my Flaming Thunderbolt and continued my charge, the others following behind me, the crowd at the square parting.

“Out of the way!” I shouted, and once enough people had cleared, I began yelling for Hugo.

“…As it is through the loss of blood that those who have betrayed me redeem themselves, their deaths purifying their spirits and aiding in a good rebirth.” Hugo paused, peering out to the crowd once he heard me calling his name.

I reached the same place where I had stopped last time, immediately tracing the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes. Hugo was going to be a better combatant than me; not only was he amped up because of the jewels he possessed, he was also a former Marine.

Fighting was in his blood.

And as he had last time, Hugo hopped down from the stage as the locals started to fan outward, Roger asked me for his blade.

“Not this time,” I told him, focused only on besting Hugo. “I have to try something.”

“Not this time?”

“Have you already attempted this before?” Saruul asked.

I nodded as Hugo approached, a spear placed in his hand. He said the same thing he said to me before, asking me for my final words, but rather than let him finish his question, I decided to make my move.

This time I didn’t go with my sword overhead; instead, I immediately feigned an attack, Hugo jutting the end of the spear forward to meet it. I sidestepped his attempt, and was just about to go in for the kill when I realized I was on the verge of striking someone who I used to consider a good friend.

I hesitated.

My attack went wide, allowing Hugo to smack me in the face with the end of his spear.

I absorbed the strike, but that didn’t stop me from spinning off to the side, where Hugo used the sharp end of the spear to take me off my feet.

A deranged look on his face, the eyes on his serpent crown glowing, Hugo drove the spear into the ground.

I had already rolled away by that point, but I knew that I had one more chance before I would have to start this process all over again.

Our weapons met, my Flaming Thunderbolt igniting a portion of his spear before the fire was quickly dampened by an unknown force.

Hugo kicked me in the chest and I flew backward, rolling once and losing my weapon.

He looked at my sword.

He tossed his spear aside, and as he crouched to grab the hilt of my weapon, I activated my time switch.

I cast Ra-Mu.

“I’ve lost twice now,” I told Lhandon, Saruul, and Roger as I stood up, the four of us back at the tannery. I instinctively placed my hand on the hilt of my weapon, confirming it was still there. I had just gone, yet again, from combat to a stationary position, my stomach taking a moment before settling.

“You what?” Lhandon asked.

“Twice. Hugo has beaten me twice now.”

“I see,” the monk said, exchanging glances with Saruul. “If you don’t mind me asking, what has been your strategy thus far?”

“We’ve charged forward,” I told him, “and then I engaged Hugo. Both times I have absorbed his strikes until I could no longer use that rune, and then I’ve come back here before he could kill me.”

“Have you thought about doing something a little sneakier?” Roger asked.

“I believe one of the problems is that…” I shook my head. “I may have had a chance last go-around, but I choked at the last second. It’s just weird to think that I have to kill my friend. It threw me off, I’ll admit that.”

“If you don’t kill him, he’ll kill you,” Roger reminded me. “Just imagine him as that other guy that you came here with. Evan?”

“Yeah, Evan.”

“So you’re having second thoughts,” Lhandon said, pondering this for a moment.

“We need to hurry,” I said, ignoring the concern in Saruul’s eyes. “By the time we get there, Hugo will be bringing Sukhbat onto a stage to execute him. If we wait too long, they will kill him…”

“Maybe there’s something else,” Lhandon suggested. “Did anything else stand out to you when you were fighting him?”

“Hugo can move at about his same speed when I activate my time switch. Also, the eyes on his crown are glowing brighter than normal. I already found the crown suspicious, and he has other jewelry on, but that, in particular, seems to be quite powerful. Maybe it’s the crown’s eyes, maybe it’s just in my head.”

“Then go for the crown,” Lhandon said. “What can it hurt to try that?”

“To go for the crown, I might have to get in pretty close, and if there’s anything that Hugo was trained in, it would be hand-to-hand combat.”

“You should try anyway,” Saruul said. “If it doesn’t work, return here and we will think of something else.”

“Right,” I said, suddenly feeling a swell of confidence, “we need to go.”

It was about fifteen minutes later that we reached the back of the crowd, Lhandon out of breath due to the speed we had been moving. I drew my blade and charged forward as I had done the previous two times.

Hugo got down from the stage and was given a spear.

He started up his spiel and got to the point relatively quickly: “Do you have anything to say for yourself before challenging the Emperor of the Island Kingdom of Jonang?”

“No weapons,” I told him as I drove my sword into the ground. “You and me.”

I lifted my fists, an absolutely sinister smile spreading across Hugo’s face.

He handed his spear to one of his guards, the eyes on his crown glowing as I approached him with my fists up.

I was glad that I had traced the rune that allowed me to absorb three strikes while running through the crowd.

Hugo’s first punch was lightning fast, right in the chin. I was sent stumbling backward. He was at my side in a matter of seconds, delivering a blow to my ribs that would have shattered them had I not absorbed his attack.

It was now or never.

I lunged for Hugo, both hands reaching toward his face, hoping to knock his crown off.

His right knuckles connected directly with my nose, and knowing that I would have to try again, I scrambled away.

I started to run toward the opposite side of the crowd as Hugo laughed, the locals joining in with him. I triggered my time switch, and traced Ra-Mu just as Hugo caught up with me, delivering a quick strike to the back of my head.

Everything went black.

But the rune worked, returning me to the past.

“It’s my fourth time,” I told Lhandon, Roger and Saruul, my body not quite understanding how to interpret the sudden change in action. “He has beaten me three times now.”

“So you have returned,” Lhandon said, looking at me curiously.

“I tried to engage him with my weapon the first two times, and this last time I tried to go for his crown. I have a feeling that what he has become has something to do with his crown.” I stopped for a moment, realizing that I had already said this. Then again, they hadn’t heard me say it yet. “It’s just a hunch, but I think it’s what’s going on here. I’ve got to get to that crown. Maybe I could use the Cooling Fan to knock it off him. Then again, that may injure some of the locals, and who knows how tightly that crown is affixed to his head.”

“I could try to get it,” Saruul said. “You could engage him from the front and I could come in from the back.”

“People, people,” Roger said, a note of disdain to his voice. “You need something picked off the top of some guy’s head, and no one, not even the monk, has thought to ask me to do it? If anyone’s going to be yanking a crown off this egotistical emperor’s stupid head, it’s going to be me. Why am I even having to volunteer for this? Did no one seriously think that I would be the right person for this job?”

“He seems agitated,” Lhandon commented.

“Roger is right,” I said. “Sorry, little guy.”

“Nope, we are not going to start calling me ‘little guy.’ In fact, I think that you should go ahead and lose to Hugo again and come back to this point and remember what we have already discussed, and not call me ‘little guy’ that time, so it will have never been said.”

“Are you serious?” I asked him, looking up to the leather rope that he was perched on.

“Maybe,” Roger sighed. “I guess we shouldn’t waste time on doing all this over again just so you don’t say it.”

“Let’s go,” I told them, “and this time, I will distract him while you get the crown. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan you should have had all along,” Roger said as he dropped down to my shoulder.

We moved to the square, Lhandon again breathing heavily once we reached the back of the crowd.

As Hugo rambled off about loyalty, I started shouting at the stage, waving my Flaming Thunderbolt over my head as we neared the front of the mob. The crowd parted, Hugo dropped down and took a spear from one of his guards, going with the same speech he had gone through the other times.

“Roger, up here,” I said, nodding to my shoulder as Hugo spoke.

“What’s the plan, boss?”

“I am only able to absorb three strikes, which means you don’t have long to get his crown. Maybe it’s best to take off after I have engaged him, loop around…”

“Well?” Hugo asked. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Fuck this guy, Nick, you know I got this.”

“All I have to say is that you will regret challenging me,” I told Hugo as Roger hopped back to the ground.

I waited for Hugo to charge me this time around, hoping it would be advantageous to our plan.

Hugo was in front of me in a matter of seconds, driving a spear into my chest, its tip bouncing off as I absorbed his blow. I struck him with the hilt of my weapon, my Fist of Force giving me added strength and sending Hugo backward.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Hugo asked, hatred burning behind his eyes.

I came for him this time, focused solely on distracting him as our weapons clinked together.

He blocked each blow, an almost bored look on his face.

Hugo managed to strike me in the cheek with the end of his spear, and as I went up to block his next strike, Roger came out of nowhere, tearing the crown off Hugo’s head.

“Holy shit!” Roger screamed, dropping the crown to the ground as his talons sizzled.

Hugo made eye contact with me, and as he did, I stopped time, knowing that he would be able to move near his normal speed, but hoping that it would make him just a little bit slower.

It was now a race for the crown, Hugo dropping his spear as he ran, me with my Flaming Thunderbolt, ready to strike the crown or bat it away.

Hugo reached the crown before I did, but I managed to drive my blade down onto the ground, breaking the crown in two.

“What have you done, Nick?” Hugo asked as he stumbled backward.

Black liquid began to bubble out of the crown.

Swelling and dissipating, the liquid began to form an absolutely enormous man with dark purple skin, broad shoulders, and muscled chest with rippled lines across his pectorals. The man had the face of a bull, bulky horns jutting out his head. His legs started to take shape, the demon bull glaring at the two of us as a golden ring began to form in his nostrils.

“Both of you will pay dearly for this,” the demon bull said, his voice absolutely terrifying, “and then I will drink from the skulls of every person in this cursed city.”

He threw his head back and began to morph again.

The demon finished its transformation into a bull the size of a woolly mammoth, its enormous septum piercing turning to liquid and forming a golden mask on its face.

It wasted no time in charging forward.

Saruul dove for Lhandon just in time, saving the monk from being gored to death.

The demon bull didn’t stop.

It smashed into the mob, bodies flying into the air. Hugo went for his spear. “Nick, we have to do something!” he said.

“Hugo?” I asked, noticing something different about him, something familiar.

“Come on,” he said, his voice haggard. “We can’t let it kill all these people, my people.” Hugo turned to me, his eyes narrowing. “Are you with me?”

I glanced at Saruul and Lhandon, both of them with cautious looks on their faces. “I’m with you.”

“Let’s go then.” Saruul quickly morphing into a lion as she took off after the demon.

“I’m with the lioness,” Roger said, flapping into the air.

“This should help some.” I quickly traced Bah-Mo, the heavily armored monkey taking shape. He glanced at both his scimitars, shook his hands out once, and jumped into the air, bolting toward the bull.

“You have a monkey that fights for you?” Hugo asked.

“It has been a weird month.”

“Tell me about it,” he said as he started jogging toward the bull.

I could still see people being flung up into the air, a trail of blood and trampled bodies in the demon bull’s wake.

“Later, and my sword should help too,” I called to Hugo as I tried to keep up with him. As if it had heard what I just said, a white flame cascaded from the tip of the sword down to its hilt, fizzling out and merging with the rest of the flames.

The demon bull turned and started heading in our direction.

As soon as I caught sight of it, I triggered my time switch, Hugo still moving at his normal pace.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Lhandon frozen, a determined look on the monk’s face, his hands rimmed in electric blue sparks. Saruul was ahead of us, the lioness just about to shift to the right to avoid the bull. Roger was overhead, his talons extended in front of him as if he planned to land on the bull’s head.

I took a step to the left, Hugo still moving at his normal pace as time sped up.

Hugo leaped into the air, and rather than meet certain death at the end of the bull’s horns, he kicked off the bull’s forehead and landed on the demonic beast, steering it straight to the ground.

Hugo and the demon bull came to a sliding stop.

I took the opportunity to jab my sword into the bull’s side, the creature letting out an ear-piercing roar that overpowered the terrified cries of the crowd as they continued fleeing the scene.

Bah-Mo dropped to the ground, immediately going on the attack and slicing at the demon bull’s body as it managed to buck Hugo off.

The bull reared back onto its two hind legs and came down hard, a ripple of energy shooting forward and knocking all of us off our feet.

All of us except Bah-Mo, who still hacked away.

I needed the bull in a vulnerable position, and rather than charge at it with my Flaming Thunderbolt again, I went with the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers, shouting for everyone who could hear me to get out of the way as I batted at the air with the fan.

Hugo rolled to the right, Roger swooping away from the action.

The wind smashed into the demon bull, the beast letting out an angry cry.

The monster was able to hold strong, banners and discarded bits of food spinning in the air around the demon as it turned to face me.

Bah-Mo continued to hack away at it, but his strikes only seemed to do surface damage, none of them able to actually stop the monstrosity.

“Harder, Nick!” Lhandon shouted.

I doubled down on the energy I was putting into the fan; it wasn’t long before the demon bull was knocked onto its side.

“Nick, your sword!” Hugo cried as he abandoned his spear.

I didn’t even have a moment to think twice about his request; I could always go back in time if Hugo betrayed us.

And since Hugo was too far away to actually toss my sword to him, I merely threw my sword into the air, the wind catching it, Hugo jumping further than I’d ever seen someone jump before in pursuit of my weapon.

He grabbed the sword by its hilt, and landed with a roll, immediately advancing on the bull.

He climbed its body, was blown to its other side, and quickly stabbed his sword into the demon bull’s ribs, which allowed him to stabilize himself as I slowly lowered my fan.

As the creature tried to shake Hugo off, its face contorting and eyes burning red, the former Marine held strong.

The demon bull let out a final gasp; Hugo began butchering the creature, bringing my sword in and out so rapidly that I could barely see his movement. Using his foot to stabilize himself, Hugo stabbed my blade into the bull’s throat, his muscles pulsing as he sawed its head off.

Still holding my sword, Hugo lifted the bull’s head by its horn, a grave expression on his face.

He dropped the bull’s head and turned to me.

“Nick… I’m…”

“Emperor Hugo!” A trio of guards came forward, all of them dropping to their knees.

I got the sense that they had been waiting to see how this played out, but didn’t say anything as he one who called out Hugo’s name stood, his head slightly bowed. “Our port is under siege!”

“Under siege? By who?”

The guard swallowed hard. “It appears to be the Kingdom of Lhasa.”

Just as the soldier finished speaking, a seagull fell from the sky and smacked to the ground, clearly dead.

A black pearl popped out of its mouth, rolling for a moment and stopping.

“You can’t make this shit up,” Roger said as he landed on my shoulder. “Fucking seagulls.”

“The Kingdom of Lhasa?” Hugo asked, not skipping a beat.

“That may be because of us,” Lhandon said as he joined me, huffing and puffing. “It seems like Sona and Evan finally caught up to us.”

“You think Evan is there?” Hugo asked, turning in the direction of the coast.

“It would make sense,” I said.

“Then we must go there. Now.”

“What about all this?” I asked, waving my hand over the battle and stopping on the stage, where Sukhbat stood, awaiting his fate.

“We can deal with this later. Sukhbat,” Hugo called to the heavyset monk, his voice suddenly amplified again,  “you are free to go. We can meet later to discuss what has happened here. Tell your people to get to safety. Anyone with runic powers or combat skills should make their way to the port. We will send for reinforcements from Sor, but they will take twelve hours to get here. We must hurry. We must defend our country!”

Chapter Twenty-Six: Fighting through the Crowd

I ran alongside Hugo toward his palace, the sound of explosions on the horizon.

There was no time to catch up, no time to unpack what had happened between us, or how the item that Hugo had been wearing had possessed him.

“Emperor Hugo!” a soldier shouted. He was with a group that was helping civilians vacate their homes. “General Toshin has set up a planning outpost in a secure location near the palace. The other generals have begun moving heavy artillery out of the palace. Most of our siege defenses have fallen. General Thupten has led a charge to address the forces that have already landed.”

“How did they do it?” Hugo asked.

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have the answer to that question.”

“We will proceed to the outpost,” Hugo said just as Lhandon caught up to us.

Hugo motioned us toward his left, changing his trajectory to the side streets that ran in front of the palace, where the palatial homes were located. He came to a particular home surrounded by a white wall, two guards out front.

They saw Hugo immediately and stepped aside.

“I haven’t even begun to unpack all of this,” Roger said as he returned to my shoulder.

“What did you see?”

“Ships, and lots of them, Nick. I don’t know how they made it to the port. We were just there.”

“It must have been a rune,” Lhandon said, no one paying much attention to his statement as we made our way through an arched doorway, the door made of wood that was easily a foot thick.

“General Toshin,” Hugo said once we reached a large room on the second floor. There were maps laid out on a table and men on a balcony watching the battle through telescopes.

“Emperor Hugo,” the general said as he looked up from his maps. He was an older man with a mole just above his lip, an absolutely stern expression on his face. “How much do you already know?”

“Update me on the most pertinent details.”

“The Kingdom of Lhasa began their attack twenty minutes ago,” the general said. “Their ships appeared out of nowhere, as if they were dropped from the sky. We believe it was runic magic.”

“Okay.”

“There are twelve ships, two of which are Immortal Brigs armed with long-range artillery.”

“Warships. Have they started firing yet?” Hugo asked.

“No, they appear to be waiting. Once the ships appeared they were already in the process of landing. Most of the merchant and passenger vessels have been destroyed, which was their first target.”

“And they destroyed them without heavy artillery?” Hugo asked.

“The merchant's vessels were attacked at the same time the ships were appearing,” General Toshin said quickly. “If they were, we have yet to see the warships fire since that point.”

“Saving artillery. And none of the wards we have set picked up on any of their activity?”

“No,” the general said.

“They must be working with someone quite powerful, perhaps a Divine Master,” Lhandon said as Hugo made his way to the balcony. “But I don’t know who would lower themselves to that level.”

“We have already met a monk that did,” I said, reminding him of Gomchen.

“Ah, yes,” Lhandon said, a dark look coming across his face. “How could I forget?”

A soldier stepped aside and Hugo looked through one of the telescopes, a slight breeze lifting the ends of his cape, the jewels still on his body reflecting in the light of the sun.

“It could be a sacred object that disguised them,” General Toshin suggested.

“An entire fleet?” I asked.

Roger snorted. “Of all the things you’ve seen in our world, a bunch of invisible ships is the most questionable?”

“I didn’t say that…”

Before I could finish my thought, Hugo returned, his eyes flaring with anger. “I’ve seen enough here. I’m going down there and handling this myself. General Toshin, prepare all defenses to take out their warships. I will deal with the frontline.”

“Yes, Emperor, but if I may be so bold…”

“You may not,” Hugo told him firmly. “There are things I’ve done recently that I am not…” he swallowed, glancing at another soldier in the room. “Things that I’m not proud about. I cannot redeem myself for these things, but I can at least try. An emperor must lead his people if he expects them to take charge in his absence. Nick, you and your party may stay here.”

“You know that’s not happening,” I said as I placed my hand on the hilt of my weapon. “If Evan or Sona are down there, you’ll need my help.”

“Sona?”

“Don’t get me started on her,” Roger said with a groan.

“She’s the leader of Madame Mabel’s elite guard,” Lhandon explained, “and the person responsible for razing the Monastery of the Exalted One to the ground.”

“Then you may come with me,” Hugo said, turning to the door.

I glanced at Lhandon and Saruul, both of them nodding, only Lhandon wearing a mask of apprehension.

No one needed to make the suggestion to Roger, the bird already racing after Hugo, itching to join the battle. We passed soldiers at the front gate, both of them calling out to their Emperor with concern.

Hugo ignored them, his sole focus on getting to the front of the battle, the man exuding determination.

It was hard to keep up with him.

He ran faster than any of us, and I had a feeling he wasn’t running at full capacity.

“Nick, my blade,” Roger said as he swooped down in front of me.

I crouched quickly and took his knife from my boot, holding it in the air. He grabbed it by its tassel, the blade weighing him down once he took off.

“Do we even know what we’re doing?” Saruul asked, the lioness’ ears flitted back.

“We’re stopping their invasion,” I told her.

“I mean, yes, I understand that part, but have you thought any of this through? Hugo is charging into a battle that we may not be able to win, not with our numbers.”

“I…”

“Your point is taken, Saruul,” Lhandon said it, the monk sucking in deep gulps of air. “But we can’t let them ransack the city, and it is true, this is our karma.”

“Our karma?”

He nodded at her. “We’re the ones that brought them here. If we hadn’t come to this island, the Kingdom of Lhasa would have stayed put. So in a way, this is our doing. No, not in a way, this is our doing.”

“You know I’m with you, Nick,” she said, “I just don’t want…”

“Let’s wrap this up,” Roger called down to us.

“I don’t want this to end here. If it’s going to end somewhere, then so be it, but I don’t want it to end here,” she said, the look on her face making it clear that she was trying to hold back. “Not on this island.”

“I won’t let that happen,” I assured her. “Remember, I set a marker; I can always go back.”

“And relive all of that again?”

“If it comes to one of you facing serious injury that I can’t heal, it’s definitely worth it. Let’s do this,” I told them, my hand coming to my sword. “And remember our main targets: Evan and Sona.”

“And any monk they may have in their employ,” Lhandon said. “Whoever concealed those boats…”

“Right,” I said, turning in Hugo’s direction.

It didn’t take us long to reach the hill that led down to the port, where we found many of the buildings on fire, the merchant ships and passenger vessels mostly sunk, chaos in the air tuned to the sounds of clinking weapons and desperate bellows. I saw a handful of ships on the horizon, but most were close to the docks, soldiers continuing to file out of them.

It only took me a second to locate Hugo, who had grabbed two swords from fallen soldiers, spinning as he wielded his blades.  He cut his way through elite guard after elite guard, an absolutely savage look in the way that he moved, as arcs of blood spritzed the air, a grace to his combat that made it clear he was experienced.

Two soldiers in snow lion armor charged at me. I launched into action, cutting one of them down with my Flaming Thunderbolt.

The fire from my sword took a third man by surprise, the man stepping back, Saruul crashing into him. The lioness tore the man to the ground, her jaw clenched around his neck as she dragged him to the side.

Roger spun forward with his blade, distracting a soldier who was running at us with a spear. Faster than ever, Hugo stepped in front of the man and cut his spear away, quickly sending one of his swords through an opening in the man’s armor.

The soldier I was engaging came in for another swing that would have taken off my arm at the elbow had I not absorbed the blow.

He swatted his sword at me again and I blocked it with my Flaming Thunderbolt, parrying his next attack, and feigning a strike of my own that sent him into a defensive posture, which allowed me to swing my sword to the side and deliver a fatal blow.

I focused only on the soldiers we were engaging, too many now in the distance, everything surging toward us as a small squadron of Hugo’s reinforcements showed up.

A fist cracked me the back of the head.

I stumbled forward, turning just in time to avoid another punch. It was one of Sona’s ninja-like warriors, the same type that had attacked me in my room back at the monastery in Lhasa.

There were more of them now, running on some of the roofs that weren’t on fire as they prepared to join the battle.

Lhandon shifted his hand forward, electrified ice energy rippling around his wrist just as one of the stealth fighters landed.  The ninja cried out as ice spread over his body, the man looking up to the sky as his eyes hardened.

I continued forward, Hugo and I now back to back, fighting enemies on either side. He wielded his two swords as if he had done it all his life; I swung my Flaming Thunderbolt as best I could, the fire licking off the blade forcing everyone back.

It was a mess, the start of a massacre, and it was hard to tell the soldiers apart, especially as the mob thickened, carnage swelling in my periphery.

Needing a moment to process all this, I activated my time switch, getting a better look at my surroundings.

I was glad that I did.

There was a man charging in my direction, easily three heads taller than me, his sword held over his shoulder like he was about to hit a home run.

I stepped aside and did something I’d always wanted to do, yet never had a time ability nor the necessity to do.

I stuck my foot out, everything returning to its normal pace, the man tripping and flying head first into the ground. He lost hold of his sword, which went twisting off to the side and cracked into an overturned cart that already had two dead soldiers leaning against it.

Saruul leaped on top of the big swordsman a second later, ripping off his armor, finishing what I started.

I pressed to the front of the fight, my sword going into its sheath as I went for my Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers.

I stroked the air once, then twice, knocking a group of incoming guards backward.

I got into the rhythm, doing it again, a great zephyr swelling forward and tearing through their ranks, the tornado of power also forcing some of their helmets off and causing many of them to lose their grips on their weapons.

Anguish bloomed all around me.

Screams, grunts, blood splattering, dirt kicked up, blunt object used as weapons when swords went astray, flashes of turquoise, flashes of black-and-white, flashes of red— the battle, which was more like a brawl, raged on, huge plumes of fire lifting into the air as we grew closer to the docks, and large wooden support beams fell into the street.

I would have recognized her anywhere, especially after the time I had spent with her. And truth be told there was a moment during our brief interaction that I thought she would turn good, that maybe there would be something more between us.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

My eyes fell upon Sona, a red energy radiating off her armor, the fierce warrior pointing her blade at us as she yelled for the soldiers around her to charge.

“Is that her?” Hugo asked, suddenly at my side, still engaging one of her elite guards.

“It’s her!”

I raised my Flaming Thunderbolt just in time to block an attack from one of her guards, the man’s weapon catching fire and the flames spreading over his body.

Hugo charged forward, another towering soldier running to meet him with his sword overhead.

He brought his weapon down; Hugo sidestepped it and punched the man so hard in the side of the face that his helmet shattered, bits of metal jutting into the man’s face as he stumbled forward, dazed, Hugo already on the move again.

The man fell to one knee, and as he tried to get up I took his head off with my weapon, the neck wound already cauterized.

Hugo met Sona, her Mummified Hand of Dolma shattering his sword.

He avoided her next strike, Hugo kicking her aside as another one of her soldiers lunged for him. Hitting the air, Hugo flipped backward, landing on the man’s shoulders and driving him to the ground.

He crouched and grabbed the soldier’s sword, taking off toward Sona again.

Their weapons met as I reached the two of them, Hugo’s starting to crack, Sona turning her attention to me as I swung my blade at her.

“Nick,” she said once she had dodged my attack, a wicked smile on her face, a dark energy igniting behind her eyes.

With her outstretched hand she blew me backward, the energy shredding me, leaving me a bloodied and tattered mess by the time it finished.

I could feel every nerve in my body screaming, the pain excruciating.

I knew if I was going to continue, I would have to heal.

But I tried to get up anyway, moving to my knee, and pressing to my feet just as one of her elite guards came at me.

Lhandon tackled the man, using his icy hands on him as Roger flew overhead, his blade slicing at the face of another soldier, one whose helmet had been blown off by my wind attack.

Saruul jumped over me and leaped over Lhandon. She collided with an elite guard wielding two swords, the man shrieking as she took him down.

I traced my Healing Hand power, instantly rejuvenated.

We had to end this now; I had used my power too early, and I was aware of it, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to move without using it…

One of Hugo’s soldiers fell on top of me and I scrambled out from under him. A local fighter using a hunk of wood as a club struck Sona’s soldier in the back of the head.

I pressed past him, on my way toward Sona again.

She broke Hugo’s weapons, and every time she did he went for another one, the man possessed with a desire to overpower her, to stop the invasion, to save his people.

I was met by an elite guard with two gleaming swords.

She flourished them as she jumped into the air, stepping up as if there were an invisible block and coming down with both weapons.

I blocked her double sword attack, her blades igniting. She spun and I ducked, triggering the time switch yet again.

I drove my blade into her back, everything returning to its normal pace as the woman let out a choking gulp, as she realized there was a fiery sword now sticking out of her chest.

I turned back to Sona, and as I did I saw her whip Hugo’s weapon away.

She drove her sword into his stomach and tilted her blade up as it pressed out his back.

He would try to fight back, but soon the red energy from her weapon engulfed his body.

Sona drew her blade and turned her attention to me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sona’s Fate

“Hugo!”

I took off toward Sona, hoping to prevent her from stabbing Hugo again.

I skirted around his body and our weapons met, a sinister smile on her face as she spun, her strike sending me stumbling backward.

“I always wondered what would happen if we truly fought,” Sona said, a sliver of hair falling in her face.

Rather than respond I swung my Flaming Thunderbolt at her, my blade forming a ring of fire around me which she blocked with her weapon

I came at her again; Sona sidestepped my attack and managed to bring her blade against my back, her strike sending a sharp pain through my body.

I ignored it.

I still had my healing power, and as the wound started to heal up I came at her yet again, my mind working overtime as it tried to come up with a strategy to beat her.

I recalled the brutal training I’d had in Dornod, some of the things I’d learned so far over the journey, and the runes I was able to use. The only one that would be useful was the Rune of Distortion, but there were too many people around, and casting it could backfire as it had before.

Since I was still able to heal, maybe the best thing to do was to try to overpower Sona, to get her sword out of her hand and worry less about her attacks and more about finishing this quickly.

Everything on the periphery was a blur as I lunged for Sona, our blades meeting again and again.

“You have gotten stronger,” she said as she forced me away. She spun, a bolt of energy sending a slash mark across my chest. “But you are still weaker than you should be.”

“Why have you done this?” I asked, the wound stitching up.

“Nick, when will you learn the power of negative karma?” she asked. “We could have been…” Her throat quivered. “We could have been so strong together.”

“Stronger together?”

I disregarded her suggestion. As I had done in Dornod during my training, I ignored the pain completely. I fought through it, coming for her again, ignoring a spell she cast that saw swords circling me, all striking at once.

My robes bloodied, I came forward again, feigning an attack and slowing down time just as Sona pressed her blade out. I brought my fist back and struck her so hard on the wrist that she lost her weapon.

And I thought that was it; I thought as time sped up I would be able to finish this once and for all.

But as time steadied to its normal pace, and just as I was about to land a blow that I knew would have ended her life, Sona’s sword returned to her hand as if it were connected to an invisible rope.

She blocked my attack, shouldered into me, and drove her blade deep into my chest, her eyes falling on my Deathstone Amulet as she landed on top of me, her legs straddling my waist. “Where did you…?”

I saw a flash of black-and-white as Saruul slammed into Sona. The lioness pulled her to the ground, instantly going for her jugular as Sona tried to fight her off.

I felt the sword move out of my body as it returned to Sona’s hand, my breaths short and painful as my wound started to heal.

In a fit of sheer animosity, Saruul tore Sona’s throat out, a lump of viscera flying in the air. The two struggled for a moment longer, Saruul absolutely overpowering her opponent.

“No,” I said as I pressed myself up, able to breathe normally again.

I dropped my sword and crawled over to Saruul, the lioness now lying on the ground next to Sona, a big red spot on her body where Sona had managed to stab her.

The Mummified Hand of Dolma jutted out of her body, and as I reached her I placed my hand on the hilt, its energy immediately swelling up my arm. I stabbed it into the ground, away from Sona’s body, and began healing Saruul.

Her wound was close to healing fully when my power stopped working, a portion of the cut still visible and bleeding.

She was able to morph now, and as she did, I glanced over to Sona, who lay on her back, her mouth wide open, her throat completely missing.

Dead.

An explosion brought the building to the ground, the rubble bringing down some of the soldiers who had been fighting in front of it.

I looked out at the sea.

Sona’s two warships were now firing on the port, large plumes of black smoke filling the air.

“Nick, you need to heal Hugo,” Lhandon said as he came to my side. “Saruul, are you okay?”

She touched the wound in her side, and looked at the fresh blood on her fingertips. “I’ll be okay.”

Roger landed on Saruul’s shoulder just as she got to her feet. “Come on, I need you to help me,” he said hurriedly. “I know you still have some fight left in you.”

“Where did your dagger go?” she asked.

“I got it stuck in some guy’s eyehole back there; I can’t get it out.”

I dropped in front of Hugo; he tried to sit up and failed.

“Nick…” Hugo said, his voice raspy, his face streaked with dirt and blood. He grunted. “Fuck if this isn’t a shitty place for a reunion.”

“I have to…” I shook my head. My heart thrummed in my chest as another explosion caused the ground to quake, more clouds of smoke now lifting into the air. “I can’t heal you now, but I can start everything over. I can…”

“I’ll be okay,” Hugo said, a grim smile taking shape on his face. “Fight these fuckers to the docks and make them regret the day they even considered coming to our island. If Evan is there, kill him for me. I’m serious, Nick. This is on you. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it down there.”

“But…”

“I still have a surprise coming,” he said with a grin, the former Marine now baring his bloody teeth. “One for you too.” Hugo looked down at a bracelet on his wrist with a blue jewel on it. The jewel glowed, a glimmer of energy radiating out of it. “Go to the docks and see for yourself.”

“The docks?”

He nodded as Lhandon came to my side. “We have to do something about her weapon too,” the monk said quickly.

“Grab it, and let’s get to the docks,” I told him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Under the Sea

The docks weren’t very far from our current location. Despite the calamity, the fire, the fighting, the despair, the fact that we were being bombarded, the death of a foe and near-death of an old friend, it was actually a nice day, the blue sky at odds with the blood-soaked soil beneath our feet.

Roger flew overhead, his blade back in his talons, the tip bloodied. Lhandon was at the back of our small group holding Sona’s sword, and Saruul was between us.

We collided with a few of Sona’s guards that had decided to stay back, the men and women swept away as I struck them with my Cooling Fan. They tumbled into each other, into some of the flaming buildings, many of them losing their weapons as Hugo’s braver soldiers surged forward.

“Love that technique!” Roger shouted down to me.

It was easier to clear our path using this weapon, but that wasn’t the reason that I had it out.

I was hoping to be able to bat away any incoming explosions, even if the likelihood of me reacting that quickly was close to nil.

We reached the docks, and as we did a group of stealth fighters formed a circle around us, their fists up.

I cleared them away by spinning with my fan out, Lhandon and Saruul ducking just in time. The ninjas were sent flying, some of them into the water and others into the hull of a sinking ship.

“This is where I branch off,” Lhandon said, turning south, toward the far end of the dock.

“We need to stick together,” Saruul told him.

“But I need to rid us of this sword,” the monk said, looking down at the weapon with disdain.

“Wait, he was planning to toss that shitty sword out into the ocean?” Roger cackled. “Because if that’s the case, someone will just fish it out. He knows that, right? That’s how these evil legendary weapons work. Someone tries to hide it, and another person tries to find it. Throwing it to the bottom of the bay here won’t make it very hard to find it.”

“Roger is right,” I said. “If we’re going to destroy it, we need to do it in a way that people never get it again. For now, just hold onto it,” I told Lhandon.

“But the energy…” He bit his lip. “Okay, I will do my best, but I can feel it brushing against my soul.”

“You’re stronger than that,” I told him, just as one of the ninjas climbed back up the dock, Saruul kicking him in the face.

“Got him!” Roger shouted, his voice tinged and laughter.

An explosion hit the area of the dock that Lhandon had just been heading toward, sending a giant wave into the air. All of us ran, the water reaching us, the dock tilting forward.

Saruul screamed, the lioness still very afraid of water. She moved ahead of us as we continued to run, the dock swaying beneath us.

Another explosion should have been what caught my attention, but as I glanced out the sea, I saw something that sent a ripple of fear down my spine.

My mouth fell open as a glistening sea dragon rose out of the water, followed by another, both of them crashing down onto one of the warships.

I nearly collided with Lhandon as pale men and women lifted from the water.

“Was this what Hugo had in mind?” I asked, Lhandon bringing his hand to his mouth.

“I’ve never…”

Two more sea dragons rose from the tumultuous waves, and as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, I spotted something that looked like a human on top of one of them. I squinted, trying to confirm what I had seen, but the sea dragon had already dipped back into the sea.

The underwater people jumped into the air, water spraying from their feet as they began landing on some of the sinking ships, a few reaching the docks.

The sea dragons tore into the other warship just as an explosion separated our part of the dock from the rest of the chaos.

“Nick, land, now!” Saruul morphed and bolted toward the shoreline.

I started running after her, Roger swooping overhead, and Lhandon at the rear again, still with Sona’s sword.

We reached land, more of the dock crumbling.

Saruul moved even faster, further and further away from the water, Lhandon and I following suit, and Roger still above us, the bird spiraling through the air. An enormous wave dropped onto our heads, sending Lhandon to his knees, the water carrying some of the dead bodies away. The saltwater stung my eyes as I managed to grab the monk and hold onto his arm, Saruul swimming forward as the water receded.

We moved further up the hill, flames now all around us from the warehouses that had been struck by artillery.

The scenery was overwhelming, sea dragons tearing through boats in the bay, the underwater people fighting Sona’s guards on what was left of the dock, giant waves occasionally crashing down and putting out some of the infernos closer to the water.

We kept moving away from the mayhem, our natural response being one to escape.

Eventually, we came upon Hugo, who was now surrounded by a retinue of soldiers.

He spotted me and called my name.

“What’s going on out there?” I asked Hugo as I reached him, the soldiers stepping aside so Lhandon and Saruul could join me as well, Roger touching down onto Saruul’s shoulder. “How did you…”

“My secret weapon,” Hugo said with a grin, his eyes dropping to his bracelet.

“Your secret weapon? You have command over the sea?”

He shook his head, wincing as he did so. “No, but I have a friend who does, in fact, we both have a friend who does.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. “Tom? He’s alive?”

Hugo nodded, his breath short now, the man looking like he was barely holding on.

“He sure is. Did you find Evan?”

“If he was on one of those ships, he’s probably dead now, but for some reason I don’t think he was. My bet would be that he is back in Lhasa.”

“Then you must go for him.”

“Not just me, you too, and Bobby, if he is doing better now. Tom now too. We could all go for him and end this, and then figure out a way out of here. I can reset time. I don’t have an easy way to explain it, but I can reset time to before you and I fought, before the demon bull. If I did that, we could do this all over again, and do it right this time around. We can do it right…”

A hard look came over Hugo’s face. “Absolutely not,” he said. “This is the fate I want.”

“But you may die…”

“I want to die,” he said solemnly. “I’ve instructed my men not to bring any monks or jewelry with healing capabilities.”

I tried to steady my breath. “But why? This isn’t our world, Hugo, we can heal you here. We have to do it now. I would heal you, but I can only use my power once a day.”

“I’ve done some terrible things here, Nick,” Hugo said, his eyes darting left and right.

“But that’s no reason to die,” I told him.

“You could still redeem yourself,” Lhandon added.

Roger, who was now perched on Saruul’s shoulder, seemed to disagree. “I don’t know, the number of people he tortured by tying them to trees seems like a lot of negative karma to me. That’s more repenting than any sane person would want to do in a single lifetime.”

“The thing that possessed me was in that crown,” Hugo explained, his voice growing softer. “I found the crown after arriving on the shore. It rose from the sand. I found the crown…” Hugo’s eyes started to roll back into his head and then they quivered, his gaze returning to me. “I found the crown, and as soon as I did, it possessed me. I swam here if you can imagine that. Well, floating part of the way. But the crown. A dark demon inhabits it. I challenged the previous Emperor and won. Then I started to collect rarer powerful items, then I met Tom,” he said, trying to lift his wrist and rattling some of his bracelets. “So much power. But it was the crown.”

“I understand it was the crown,” I told him, “but that doesn’t mean you have to die. I need you alive. Let’s heal you up, and then go from there.”

“The crown said things to me. It told me where it came from.” A fire ignited behind Hugo’s eyes. “The demon that inhabited it was from the Underworld, and it told me if I ever destroyed it that, that it would return here even stronger in… It threatened you, and Tom, and Bobby, and my people, he told me I needed to make sacrifices to it, to weed out any dissidents. It knew about you. All the demons in the Underworld know, they realize what the Overworld has done by bringing us here, what they’re trying to do… The crown…”

“There’s no reason to die, we still have a fight left here,” I told him.

“No, you have a fight here, my fight is down there,” Hugo said through gritted, bloody teeth. “For what I’ve done in this world I’m going to the Underworld, and when I get there, believe me, Nick, I’m going to raise so much hell that they’re going to wish there had never been a demon who inhabited a crown that somehow found itself on my head.”

“So you’re going to do the Underworld to slay demons?” Lhandon asked.

“Yes… Someone has to do it. It’s the only way for us to win this.”

“No, there has to be another way,” I started to say.

Hugo’s eyes shuttered for a moment. They opened again, life returning to him. “But before I go, Nick,” he said, loud enough for his guards to hear him. “I hereby renounce my throne and give it to you. You are now the Emperor of the Island Kingdom of Jonang, Nick. I wish you luck, Emperor Nick.”

And with that, Hugo died.

I looked to the water in the distance, fires still raging, the sea dragons moving in and out of the waves as they tore through what was left of Sona’s fleet. I then glanced at the docks, most of which were destroyed, and the bodies floating near the shore, the smoke in the air, the group of soldiers starting to line up before me.

“What are your orders, Emperor Nick?” one of the soldiers asked, his head bowed in my direction.

The end.

Back of the Book

Reader,

I love writing this series, and it continues to reach more readers because of your reviews. Please review this installment, and while you’re at it, write a quick review for books one and two.

Yes, this takes a moment, but it really helps push this series to more readers like you!

Here are some quick links:

Way of the Immortals: Path of the Divine

Way of the Immortals 2: Divine Madness

Way of the Immortals 3: Path of Possession

Now continue for some funny stories about my times in Asia.

Lion Man

I first went to Asia in 2010 as part of a study abroad trip to Nepal, where I studied the Tibetan language and lived with a Tibetan family. I fell in love with Asia, and vowed to do whatever it took for me to return in 2011. Upon arriving back in Austin, Texas, I took a job at a twenty-four hour coffee shop, covering shifts for the full-time employees. This meant that I also had to work overnight sometimes, which was very strange.

Anyway, in March 2011, I set off to India, where I planned to finish a book. My girlfriend at the time planned to join me three weeks later, giving me a hard deadline.

While I was in McLeod Ganj, home of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, I saw an Asian man with a mane of thick hair handing out fliers. He called himself Lion Man. Here is the flier he gave me:

I told him I was finishing a book, but that I’d attend his show when my girlfriend came. She came three weeks later as planned, and I handed her the flier and told her, “We’re going on a date.”

The night of the Lion Man show came, we paid the door fee, and were led to our seats. We were seated with about twelve other foreigners, half of them in deep in their karma cola modes.

Note: Even though it is played out by now and people have been making this mistake since the 60s, foreigners come to India/Nepal seeking their own nirvana. There is nothing bad about going to India to do yoga or meditate, but many can’t adjust very well to the culture in India, or they change too much in a way that doesn’t always vibe well with the people they’re accustomed to being around. Many of the foreigners modify their dress style once they get to India, wearing clothing that they’d never wear at home, and clothing that the Indian population doesn’t wear. They act like they’ve reached some type of enlightenment, and some even put themselves in harm’s way with some of their actions and decisions.

Note Two: Karma Cola is a book you should read if you’re interested in going to India for spiritual enlightenment.

Anyway, some of those people were there at the Lion Man show.

(I’m going to switch to first person present tense here because the rest of this story works better that way. Bear with me.)

Lion Man comes out, and just as he is about to start up his performance, a march for Tibetans who have self-immolated plays out in the street below the restaurant. We all wait for that to finish, most of us tucking our heads because we know it’s odd for us to be sitting in a restaurant while people are marching for those who have sacrificed their lives to bring international attention to the exploitation they are experiencing in their home country. Once the Free Tibet rally is done, Lion Man continues his performance.

Over the next hour, he tells us his story about how he came from Tibet with his mom. He shows us pictures of his homeland, he sings a Tibetan song, he goes on and on.

Everyone seated looks a little bored, all aside from a pair of German tourists, who make eye contact with me and whisper, “Just wait.”

So I wait.

The Lion Man sings another traditional song, and once he finishes, he announces that he will be taking a small intermission.

Of the fourteen or so people seated, a handful leave, mumbling that they were expecting an interesting performance.

Boy, should they have waited another few minutes.

Lion Man comes back out, a little more energetic this time.

The Germans make eye contact with me again, one gives me the thumbs up.

I don’t know what their deal is, but I’m ready for anything.

Lion Man announces that he’s about to get the party started through some nontraditional dancing. He turns on shitty four-on-the-floor dance music and starts grooving. It’s not great, but I’ve made it this far and the Germans have piqued my interest.

After a couple songs, the Lion Man pulls his pants down and starts jerking himself off. He bends over and fingers his anus, still grooving to the music as he shakes his hips.

This all happens in a matter of seconds.

Then he’s back to his normal dance, all the karma cola enlightenment seekers shocked and angry as hell that he’s exposed himself.

If someone had been filming at the time, they would’ve turned to me to see me laughing my ass off.

However vulgar Lion Man’s display was, he had milked us along for close to an hour and a half before revealing what his actual show was all about. He was a goddamn divine madman, using a shocking moment to fuck with foreigners in a way that should have broken them from their molds.

In the end, there were four of us laughing (the Germans, me, and my girlfriend, who also found it humorous), but everyone else was flaming mad/shocked in a way anyone from the West would be, and not able to do anything about it.

After the music stopped, Lion Man lined up at the door as we all filed out, shaking our hands.

And no, he didn’t wash his hand before doing so.

The reason I mention this story is because of a general theme in Way of the Immortals.

While Lion Man’s performance took place in a modern setting, it was entirely indicative of the type of “Divine Madness” that the Bhutanese monk, Drukpa Kunley, was known for. Remember him? I wrote about him in the first installment, and he is why Nick’s weapon is named the Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom.

While I haven’t delved too much in this series about these types of practices, as I am trying to write entertaining fiction here, I have continued to try to slip some of Drukpa’s odd and questionable wisdom into the books. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a space for a long Drukpa Kunley poem in Book Three, but I’ll try to add one in the next installment.

Another story that doesn’t involve Lion Man jerking off in front of me

I stayed with a Tibetan family in Nepal, as previously mentioned in the first back of the book ramblings. One story I love to tell is about Tsering, the man I stayed with, who was finally able to relocate to America.

As you may recall, Tsering had a wife and a son. The wife had been abused by Nepali police at a Free Tibet rally, and the US Embassy had granted her asylum. They, unfortunately, had not granted asylum for her husband or their three-year-old son. By the time I was staying with them, Tsering had been waiting for almost two years for his paperwork to process.

He was still waiting when I returned to America in May 2010.

Fast forward to September of that year.

I get a voice message from my dad: “Hey, it’s me, your dad,” the  message began (he always started messages like this for some reason). “Some guy named Shitting keeps calling. I can’t understand him. Says his name is Shitting. Do you know someone named Shitting? Call me back.”

I listened to the message again, trying to figure out what the hell my dad was going on about.

Then it dawned on me.

Tsering.

I called my dad back and told him that was Tsering, not Shitting, calling, and he was the man I’d stayed with in Nepal.

“Yeah, Shitting, he keeps calling. Let me get his number off the caller ID.”

Even though I was saving for India, I knew I needed to visit Tsering at least once to see how he was doing in the States. So I got in touch with him, and we made plans.

I visited Tsering December 2010 alongside a friend I’d made in Nepal, an American who happened to live in Colorado and speak Nepali.

And as you can imagine, it wasn’t easy for Tsering once he arrived in the US. In Nepal, Tsering was a business owner with his own carpet factory employing forty-six Nepalis. In America, he was living with his brother-in-law somewhere in Colorado and going on random construction jobs.

His brother-in-law’s house was also a hodgepodge of America and Tibet. It was a ranch-styled home, but the brother-in-law, a contractor, had converted one of the rooms to a prayer room. Note: most Tibetan households have prayer rooms. If they only have a two bedroom home, they will share a room in order to have a prayer room; at least the more traditional families will.

And talked about one decked out prayer room! The wooden seats were designed the same way as they were in Asia, as was the altar and the statue of the Buddha on it, the piece surrounded by thankas (Buddhist painting on cotton or silk depicting a famous scene).

“But look,” Tsering said in accented English as he a pressed button. My friend and I heard a hissing sound as a flat screen television lifted from the altar, in front of the Buddha. “Nice, right?”

Yes, it was very nice, oddly American to toss a hidden flat screen TV in the prayer room, but nice.

We ate traditional Tibetan food with them, and they prepared the food in the way they prepared it in Nepal, by placing wooden cutting boards on the kitchen floor, squatting before them, and rolling out the dough for dumplings.

Tsering was happy to be back with his wife, but he’d lost his mobility in America and his business. It was definitely bittersweet to see him reunited with his wife, but with much less than he’d had back in Nepal. We finished eating, talked some more, and parted ways.

I moved to India, and later Mongolia, a few months after meeting and we lost touch, but I’m sure he’s somewhere out there in America now, finally thriving. His son should be fifteen or so by now, meaning he would have grown up in America speaking two languages. I hope whatever they’re doing, they’re happy, on the road to success, or already flying down it.

Thanks for reading this, I hope it helps.

Harmon Cooper

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Table of Contents

- Book Two Recap
- Stages of the Path of the Divine
- Map of the Five Kingdoms
- Chapter One: Uninvited Guests

- Chapter Two: Shitbirds and Other Oceanic Obstacles

- Chapter Three: The Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers

- Chapter Four: The Golden Jewel
- Chapter Five: Crypt Keepers
- Chapter Six: Island Hospitality
- Chapter Seven: Welcome to the Jungle
- Chapter Eight: Sudden Departure
- Chapter Nine: Heads Down
- Chapter Ten: The Temple of Ocean Sky
- Chapter Eleven: An Enlightening Supper
- Chapter Twelve: Turn Back Time
- Chapter Thirteen: Ultimatum
- Chapter Fourteen: Faith
- Chapter Fifteen: Demons in the Courtyard
- Chapter Sixteen: Alone Time
- Chapter Seventeen: Bully Monks
- Chapter Eighteen: Reincarnation
- Chapter Nineteen: Floating Guard Skull
- Chapter Twenty: Deathstone
- Chapter Twenty-One: Foolhardy Plan
- Chapter Twenty-Two: Redo

- Chapter Twenty-Three: You’ve Got a Friend in Me

- Chapter Twenty-Four: Public Execution

- Chapter Twenty-Five: Demon Bull

- Chapter Twenty-Six: Fighting through the Crowd

- Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sona’s Fate
- Chapter Twenty-Eight: Under the Sea
- Back of the Book