“Good luck to you, too,” I grumbled.
“Ashley means well,” Jordan reassured me. I stared at him blankly. “Okay, so I think she means well, but she can be … a lot.”
“Understatement of the year,” I muttered under my breath.
Jordan looked like he wanted to say more but instead just shook his head. “We should get down to the training grounds.”
I followed him out the door and toward the stairwell. He hummed the Warfate video game theme song the whole way.
The New Order training grounds were located in the basement level of the apartment complex. Jordan held open the door for me, and I stepped through to find myself facing an impossibly big room. There was no way the training grounds hadn’t been altered by magic. It was easily the size of a football stadium, and the ceiling hung high above our heads. It probably broke at least fifty safety codes in Manhattan. Good thing magic barred the mortal police from ever catching wind of this place.
Torches lit by flame lined the grounds, and large mats lay on the floor.
An altar for a statue of the Jade Emperor stood inside the entrance. The golden statue glowed with the flickering flame of the incense. I resisted a shudder as I passed the Jade Emperor’s shadow. Even though he’d proven he would get rid of humans if it meant restoring the gods’ former might, we still had to show him loyalty or else he’d blast us on the spot.
The room filled with the steady, low, ominous beating of a drum. The older, retired warriors beat red drumsticks on huge red drums in steady unison.
Standing around the mats, wearing white robes and clasping their hands behind their backs, were the current New Order warriors.
One warrior stepped forward, and the flames from the torches lit up his face with an eerie glow. I tightened my grip around Jinyu’s jiàn and squared my shoulders.
“Welcome, warriors,” said Xiong, “to the Ninety-Sixth Duels, and the first of this century.”
CHAPTER
7
Xiong read from a thick black rule book with weathered yellowed pages, his voice echoing against the walls.
No matter how many contenders there were for the Ninety-Sixth Duels, only three would go on the quest, as Erlang Shen had stated in his shī. We’d fight each other one-on-one in as many rounds as necessary until only three warriors were left standing. Each duel would last ten minutes or until one warrior felled the other.
“Although death isn’t against the rules,” Xiong said, “I urge you all to see one another as you are—as comrades—and aim to injure, not maim.”
This was sounding less and less appealing by the moment.
“Every New Order warrior must be prepared to sacrifice anything for the honor of undertaking the quest. Duty above all else. So it was hundreds of years ago, and so it is now.” Xiong spoke with an unmistakable note of finality. He closed the book. The sound echoed in the open space. “Now, before we begin, each young warrior will prove their lineage and worth.”
Warriors stepped forward, including Jordan, Ashley, and me, forming a smaller circle on the black mats. I cast my gaze around and locked eyes with someone standing outside the small circle—Ren. For a moment, I was confused, but then I remembered the three rules for entry that Xiong had mentioned earlier. Of course, Ren didn’t meet the requirements for those rules, so he wouldn’t be able to take part in the Duels. I’d assumed we’d just do everything together—like how Alex and I had done everything together up until six months ago. Knowing Ren wouldn’t be entering with me gave me an uneasy feeling.
Ba hung back in the shadows, away from the others. Just seeing my father looking on made me nervous.
Among the participating warriors, I counted twenty heads in total. Many looked like they were about our age, the youngest around eleven or twelve, the oldest maybe eighteen.
“Why are the adults hanging back?” I whispered to Jordan.
“Most of them are parents,” he said. “Once a warrior turns eighteen, they come of age. Their duty is to family—to raise their children into an even better generation of warriors.”
“That’s … so beautiful.”
Jordan shrugged. “That’s what they say, but mostly, I think it’s ’cause they’re kinda out of shape.”
That had been the case back in the Jade Society, too. I guess people aren’t really up for fighting demons anymore when they’re busy dropping off their kids at day care or having their midlife crises.
Several sobbing mothers pulled out handkerchiefs. On the other hand, the kids outside the circle of participants—their friends—hooted and shouted out encouragement.
Somehow, I couldn’t picture the Jade Society adults—Mr. Yang, Mr. Zhao, or even Mao—letting their kids duel for the right to embark on a dangerous quest. Duty to the gods above all. The New Order really took that seriously.
The first warrior knelt down before Xiong.
“Wen,” Xiong barked out.
“Zài,” the warrior said. Here.
A blue flame burst up from the floor and engulfed the warrior’s outline. Some gasped. A middle-aged woman behind the boy who could only be his mother cried out in shock. But the warrior didn’t seem to be in pain and stood up to make room for the next.
One by one, the young warriors knelt down before Xiong and stated their name and family. Zheng. Qiao. Chu. Wan. One by one, the blue flames burst up and consumed their outlines. Ah Qiao’s older brother, Ah Zhu, stepped up, and a sulky Ah Qiao stayed behind. I guessed he was too young.
Ashley and Jordan knelt down in unison when it was their turn. There were no crying parents in the space behind them.
“Wait,” cried one of the Elders, just before Xiong raised his hand above the Liao siblings. The master of the New Order paused and turned his head slowly toward the Elder. “Are
