Snake (Five Ancestors #3)(30)
Author: Jeff Stone

The white monkey looked at Malao in Fu’s arms, then at the carved monkey stick Seh carried. It locked eyes with Seh and bared an impressive set of four razor-sharp fangs, each as long as Seh’s little finger.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Seh said in a soft voice.

The monkey’s upper lip curled back and he looked at the stick again.

“Maybe I should put this down,” Seh said. He laid the carved stick on the ground and stepped back.

The white monkey rushed over and picked up the stick, then spun around to face Fu. It bared its teeth again.

“Great,” Fu said. “Now it’s going to beat me with it. Help me out—I’ve got my hands full with Malao.”

Seh took a step toward Fu, and the white monkey shrieked. It jumped up and down, slamming the stick on the ground each time it landed.

Seh stopped. “I don’t think it likes me very much.”

“You think?” Fu said, rolling his eyes.

Seh took two steps back, and the white monkey took a step toward Fu. Seh took several more steps back, and the monkey took several more steps toward Fu.

“What are you doing?” Fu said. “Get over here!”

“No, wait,” Seh said. “I think it wants to see Malao, but it’s wary of me. I’m going to take a few more steps back. If it attacks you, I’ll be there before you can scream my name.”

“Great,” Fu said.

Seh took several more steps back, and the white monkey walked all the way up to Fu, its eyes fixed on Malao’s shaking body. Fu held Malao out in front of him and the white monkey slipped the carved stick into the folds of Malao’s robe. Then the monkey lowered its nose to Malao’s nose and inhaled deeply. It ran a finger across Malao’s shaky forehead and scurried away.

Fu looked at Malao, and Seh thought he saw tears welling up in Fu’s eyes again. “Ying is going to pay for this,” Fu snarled.

“Let’s stop here for the night,” Seh said. “I think we could both use some rest. I don’t sense anyone now that the monkey is gone. Does Malao still have the pouch with the fire stone and metal strike bar?”

Fu glanced at Malao’s sash and nodded.

“Maybe Malao will stop shaking if we can warm him up,” Seh said. “Step off the trail and stay with him. I’ll go find some firewood and a place to spend the night, then I’ll come back for you two.”

Fu grunted and carried Malao into the underbrush.

“Don’t go too far,” Seh said. “You’ll want to keep your eyes on the trail while I’m gone, just in case someone comes along. We don’t want any surprises.”

Fu growled, low and deep. “A visit from Ying tonight would be one of the best surprises of my life.”

Tonglong raced through the moonlight atop his pitch-black stallion. His wet silk robe and pants clung to his body, his long, heavy ponytail braid slapping his back in rhythm with the horse’s powerful strides. He had to hurry.

Tonglong needed to get to the Emperor’s summer palace and back to the bandit stronghold in a reasonable amount of time. He didn’t want Ying to get suspicious, especially since he’d already accomplished his objective as far as Ying was concerned—find out where the young monks were headed. They were headed to Kaifeng, and that was all Ying needed to know. For now, at least.

Tonglong gripped the sack in front of him, and a crooked smile rose to his thin lips. He wondered who would be more surprised in the coming days, the Emperor when he was handed his nephew’s head or Ying when he found out who had delivered it— and why.

Seh awoke with a jerk, the pit of his stomach tingling. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. In the bright morning sunshine, he saw the white monkey sitting in a nearby tree, staring at Malao. Fu lay next to Malao, snoring.

Seh decided he must have fallen asleep soon after building a small fire to warm Malao. That was several hours ago. A pile of coals in front of Fu and Malao was all that was left. Seh scanned the area, trying to pick up signs of Ying or his troops. He sensed nothing.

The monkey climbed down, and Seh saw that it carried four long sticks with numerous round objects skewered along each. They were mushroom caps. The monkey dropped the mushroom skewers next to the campfire remains, then sat down beside Malao.

Seh watched, ready to intervene, as the white monkey gently shook Malao like it was trying to wake him. Malao didn’t respond.

Seh glanced at the ground around Malao’s injured leg. It was dry. At least Malao was no longer bleeding.

The white monkey reached out and began to rub the back of Malao’s head. It appeared as though the monkey was mimicking a pressure point massage used to revive an unconscious person. It was the same technique Gao had used to revive the bandit swordsman outside the stronghold.

I wonder where it learned that, Seh thought. I should have thought to try it. He sat up, and the white monkey lifted its paw off Malao’s short black hair. The monkey bared its teeth. Seh noticed it was staring at his left wrist.