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less depressed. “But this won’t be pretty.”

They hurried together toward Water Curtain Cave.

Several tourists were in the area with umbrellas. The famed cave they were taking pictures at as the one from the story was passed by Sun Laoshi. He didn’t even look at it. He continued on down to another waterfall off the path which did not look like it had an obvious cave behind it. Tourists stared after him, and so did their group before they followed him down the snowy path to that location. Sun Laoshi stood outside it, his chest heaving angrily.

“It’s so changed,” he said.

“How much is changed?” Rick asked, coming up behind him.

Chen stared at it, nodding heavily. “Everything.”

Rick peeked to him. Though Chen had never been there, his knowledge of the Sun Laoshi’s past was like he was remembering it himself.

“They destroyed the entrance and eliminated our pond.” Immediately Sun Laoshi advanced on the waterfall, sticking his index finger into his right ear. For a second it looked like he was cleaning out some earwax—a Q-tip suddenly appearing in his fingers. But then he pulled on it and the stick grew longer and larger. He lifted the staff out of his ear, swinging it around with a spin. The spin created a vortex of air pressure, gusting away the curtain of the waterfall—and the Seven themselves. They grabbed onto the nearest rooted thing and hung on—be it a rock or a tree. Before their eyes, they saw an avalanche of rock blocking what looked like a once ornate carved entrance to somewhere. Taking that long staff, Sun Laoshi pulled on it and it expanded into a gigantic log, ornate with gold filigree and red, and thrust one heavy end into the crumbled rock face with a solid boom.

The rocks rattled.

The waterfall poured frigidly over the staff again as Sun Laoshi rammed the rock under the waterfall again. This time they heard a heavy crumble tumbling into the cave inside.

A deep rumbly voice came from inside. “Sun Wukong, ni lai si le ma?”

Sun Laoshi bristled. He called out, “Hun Shi Mowang! Wo gao su ni le—zhe shi wo de jia! Gundan!”

“Ni paoli de,” replied the voice.

“What’s he saying?” Daniel hissed.

Chen cringed, waiting.

Rick shrugged. “Something like, he’s telling him to get out and the guy inside is saying—”

“Ni xie waiguo ren zher,” the voice from inside said.

“They followed me,” Sun Laoshi said in English.

“And you adopted their ways,” the voice inside replied, sniggering.

Tom rocked on his feet, his eyes shifting nervously to the trees around them. The others with him were already drawing their swords again.

“You may have to go wolf,” Andy whispered to Rick.

Rick looked quickly to him. “Why? What?”

Nodding toward the trees, Andy looked up to the boughs.

Rick could feel the hairs stand up on his arms and back of his neck. That’s when he realized it. Water Curtain Cave was a trap for the Monkey King. The demons had intended to surround and slaughter him here—as they knew he would come there no matter what.

Clenching his teeth, Rick nodded, removing his coat. Unfastening the button to his pants, he nodded once to Chen who saw him with horror in his eyes.

“Golden dragon,” Rick said under his breath to him.

Chen’s eyes flickered to Daniel, begging the question.

“Daniel can handle it.”

The tension on the air broke.

Sun Laoshi’s suit shredded into a brilliant suit of armor. Gold and red with spotted leopard fur around his midsection, with a dual plumed cap—he spun his staff as he sprang into the cave through the waterfall while a horde of demons dropped from the trees to pounce upon his traveling companions. Dropping out of his clothes as a thin green snake, Chen immediately fleshed out into Bengal tiger, biting one, slashing another before becoming an anaconda. Rick shook out of his fur, his teeth and snout elongating, leaving his clothing in a pile behind him while dodging a demon’s claws. He then bit at any demon that came near him. And the Seven went to work.

The entire battle was a mess. No one in the Seven held back. Chen fought in every form he had—except for dragon until Daniel finally screamed at him: “Become a dragon for pity’s sake!”

Shocked for an almost fatal second, Chen finally did—fleshing out into a quick snaky dragon, biting in half several demons in the fray—crushing others in his claws.

And that’s when the demons ran.

“Should we go after them?” Eddie asked, pointing the direction they were fleeing.

Semour bolted after them, not waiting for the answer.

“Go!” shouted Sun Laoshi from within the cave, his battle loud and banging enough to make the earth shake. “Don’t let even one get away!”

Rick shared a look with Chen-the-dragon who did not seem inclined to leave Sun Wukong yet. It was Sun Wukong in there—not Sun Laoshi. He had thrown off the professorial image completely. No fake intellectual-glasses. He had the red hair growing down his cheeks into chops with a monkey-like face. They could even see a tail.

Andy shot one look at Rick then nodded, running off after the demons. They had to do what they were called to do. He then looked to Chen, his eyes shouting for the dragon to keep his best friend the wolf safe.

Seventy-Two Demon Caves

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Each of the Seven ran back past the touristy Water Curtain Cave, Andy nearly grazing that eavesdropper from before as the rushed past with his red sword high. The man nearly dropped his cell phone which he had been using as a camera to video the scene. Already Daniel and the others had rushed through after a crowd of what looked like panicked tour guides for the mountain, Daniel’s group appearing likely to kill them.

The earth had been shaking. Booms came from the valley below and police had been called.

The police had been summoned up to deal with the battle up top as well, though no bodies had been found when they finally arrived. As for the blood… the weirdest thing had been reported. Some of the monkeys from the mountain had carried over snow and rubbed the blood off the stones with it, washing away the stain of the dead with moss. At least this is what the operators of the cableway had said.

The police came more quickly to Water Curtain Cave—but they also had missed the troop of foreigners with swords and only had the shaking earth and booms to account for.

Until a wolf in clothes rushed past wearing a backpack, followed by a peculiar white horse with what looked like a real-to-life Monkey King riding on back carrying a humongous, bloody welted troll-like monster in armor.

Everyone screamed, scrambling out of their way.

Sun Wukong gazed over the tourist attraction as he arrived and pointed once at the live monkey on a chain dressed as a mini-Monkey King for tourists to take pictures with. “Cishi shifang ta! Free him now.”

The owner of the monkey stared.

Tom hopped over, somehow having not run ahead as he wasn’t exactly a warrior and didn’t really do battle. Tom snatched up the monkey owner’s keys somehow from his inner pocket without actually touching him. The keys just appeared in his hand. “Xie xie.” Tom then grabbed the monkey’s chain and undid it from around the animal’s neck, letting him loose.

Rick-the-wolf-in-clothes went on ahead to Sea View Park.

Chen-the-horse chased after him while Sun Wukong jumped off his back and greeted the freed monkey, taking him from Tom’s hand. Tom then skipped on ahead after Rick.

Sun Wukong looked at the monkey’s owner. “Zhen de?” He then gazed coldly at the tourists. “Paying this man ten ren men bi for a photo with an abused monkey? And you actually think the Monkey King would approve?”

“The Monkey King is a myth,” a tourist said.

Turning his head sharply, Sun Wukong glowered with a huff. “What would a wai guo ren know about it?”

He stalked off.

“Deng yi xia!” one of the policemen on the scene called out to him. “Ni shi shei? Gao su wo!”

Lifting his hairy chin, standing on one leg in the classic pose, the Monkey King said, “Wo jiao Sun Wukong.”

Then, with a flip, he seemed to vanish before their eyes—plumed cap, staff, armor, monkey-face and all. But walking away through the crowd after Rick, Chen, and Tom went Sun Laoshi unnoticed.

 

Rick had changed back into a man behind a building, pulling on his pants. Chen dressed nearby, glad to be able to wear his coat again, while Tom stood guard. When Tom spotted Sun Laoshi, he hissed to Rick and Chen for them to hurry up.

“No one saw you?” Tom asked the Monkey King, matching his hasty pace.

Sun Laoshi shrugged, peeking back. “I’m not a mind-reader like you.”

“Common misconception,” Tom laughed. “That’s my friend Matt.”

Sun Laoshi chuckled, nodding.

They rushed on.

All of them hurried within the wake of the Seven. And the Seven left a huge wake. Besides still finding a dead Stymphalian bird here and there, slaughtered demons lay here and there like cast-off clothing. Sun Laoshi summoned animals to drag the demon corpses off into the forest and clean up the battle scene.

Chen was impressed.  

“Hey,” Rick said, realizing Sun Laoshi was no longer carrying that huge demon he had ripped from the real Water Curtain Cave. “Where is that other guy—what’s-his-face Hun Mowing something or other?”

Lifting up a seed in his fingers, Sun Laoshi tossed it into the air. “He ditched me at that fake cave.”

“He ditched you?” Rick drew in a breath then looked around them for sight of that demon.

Sun Laoshi shook his head. “He wasn’t dead but playing it. His ability to transform is just as good as mine, and he escaped through the crowd when I was dealing with the monkey—the very second my back was turned.”

Chen’s mouth dropped open.

“Don’t worry,” Sun Laoshi said. “He was badly wounded. The blasted demon still underestimated me after all these years.”

They continued on down some rather steep stairs to the Buddhist temple where more remains of the Seven’s battle were strewn everywhere. And the police were all over it. No hiding this mess, unfortunately.

“…waiguo ren ba bao jian…”

They walked at a leisurely pace past those who were being questioned, pretending not to be part of it. None of their clothes were bloodstained like the Seven’s.  

They went past many pagodas and through the thresholds of the temples on their way down through the Buddhist temple. The trees had red ribbons in them, blowing in the frigid wind.

“Why do they do that?” Tom murmured, gazing at the ribbons as they descended to even lower levels.

“Each ribbon represents a wish or a prayer—” Chen started to explain when a yellow monk swung a staff down at him. He dodged.

Sun Laoshi blocked that monk’s staff with his. The fact that he had it still in hand and they had not seen it until then surprised them. Deflecting the monk’s staff, Sun Laoshi battled it out with the monk. Hearing the noise, the police up the hill stared after them.

The battle wasn’t long. Sun Laoshi was the master and he knocked away the monk’s staff as if it had been a toothpick and then he rammed the monk into the wall with the butt of his staff.

“You can’t kill me here,” cackled the monk, his demon face flickering

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