As the dead man slunk away, Moli flicked a spot of dust off her shoulder. I could picture her doing this for the rest of eternity—and even enjoying it. I mean, in just the twelve years that she’d lived at the Jade Society, she’d thoroughly enjoyed bossing the heck out of the rest of us.
“Follow me,” Moli commanded, waving us toward her as she moved swiftly past the line of dead people.
“You’re sure we can cut this line?” Jordan asked. He nervously eyed a group of men glaring daggers at him. The fact that they were headless and holding their heads in their hands, like they were ready to chuck them at us at any moment, made these guys even more intimidating.
“I just told you, I’m one of King Yama’s assistants,” Moli said in an exasperated voice. “You’re with me. Of course you can cut the line.”
“This girl is so … cool,” Ashley said admiringly. “Way cooler than you, Faryn.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
As we followed Moli, the line seemed to stretch on forever. Young and old, rich and poor, the dead chatted among themselves. Some called greetings to one another. They complained when we moved past but stopped when they caught sight of Moli. Paintings of bamboo covered the walls, an oddly pretty and serene backdrop to the dead who walked through the halls.
After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the front of the line. There, looming over a huge desk that towered with books and loose pages, sat King Yama himself.
“Who dares disturb my line?” boomed the god of Diyu. Slowly, he turned his gaze down toward us.
I did my best not to freak out, but I couldn’t stifle a small gasp. No offense to the god of the Underworld, but he definitely wasn’t going to be called up for any modeling gigs anytime soon. King Yama’s long black beard trailed from his earlobes to his desk. He wore a large gold hat bigger than his face. King Yama glowered at us, his thick, bushy black eyebrows moving closer together. The bit of skin on his face that wasn’t covered in hair turned red.
“More warriors?” King Yama roared. “Why can’t you meddling fools stay on Earth where you belong? Do you wish to be dead? I can easily have that arranged.” He raised a huge book from the top of the tall stack on his desk. “See this? Once I find your names and stamp the word ‘sǐ’ over them, you can join this line for real. Until then—stay out!”
I swallowed hard and did my best to keep staring right into King Yama’s beady purple eyes.
“Please, King Yama. They’re with me,” Moli piped up, interrupting the tense atmosphere.
Slowly, King Yama relaxed his angry stance. He lowered his book and fixed Moli with a bemused look. “With you, Moli? Why are these children with you?”
“They’re on a quest for some of the gods,” Moli explained.
“But why do you care?” King Yama scratched his ear, gazing at her in bafflement. “You don’t care about anyone. You’re one of the rudest, most self-centered, and outrageous people I’ve ever met. That’s why I hired you.”
Moli stood up taller, her cheeks turning pink with pleasure. “They’re my friends,” she declared. “Well, one friend, plus a couple of bums.”
“In what way are we bums?” Ashley yelled. “I take back what I said about you being cool.”
“I need a vacation,” King Yama muttered under his breath. “Can’t believe my Hawaii trip is still two centuries away.” In a louder voice, he said, “Well, since Moli is one of my best employees, I’ll humor you warriors. What business do you have with me, King Yama, god of the Underworld?”
I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. If I looked more warrior-like, maybe King Yama would take us seriously, hand us what we were looking for, and send us off on our merry way.
Even without Fenghuang and the title of Heaven Breaker with me, I was Faryn Liu, warrior who’d fought demons and gods—and lived. I’d even stood up to the Monkey King. I shouldn’t be scared of some guy in serious need of seeing a barber.
“We have come to retrieve the Ruyi Jingu Bang,” I said.
“The fate of the world depends on it,” Jordan added. A silly smile rose to his face. “Man, I’ve always wanted to say that line.”
“The Ruyi Jingu Bang? The weapon belonging to that monkey Sun Wukong?” King Yama threw his head back and laughed, god-speak for “heck no.” “That weapon is here in Diyu, yes. I confiscated it from that idiot Demon King who brought it here, and it’s now in the process of being reincarnated.”
“Reincarnated? How can a stick be reincarnated?” Ashley scoffed.
King Yama glowered. “Anything can be reincarnated, especially someone or something with a strong record for committing selfless and heroic acts. The Ruyi Jingu Bang has slain 14,587 demons. In its next life, the weapon will have enough karma to become a person.”
“Jeez,” Jordan said. “I thought my record of five demons was pretty solid.”
“Four and a half,” Ashley corrected under her breath. “I had to help you with that last one, remember?”
“But we can’t wait for the Ruyi Jingu Bang to be reincarnated into a person,” I protested. “Sun Wukong needs it now. We need it now.”
“Don’t mention that foul monkey’s name in my presence again!” growled King Yama, covering his ears with his hands. “I still haven’t forgiven that upstart for coming down here, trashing the place, and erasing his name out of my book of the dead centuries ago.” King Yama shuddered, as though reliving a horrible memory. “You’re lucky I don’t toss you into the Mountain of Flames right this moment.”
I gulped. Mountain of Flames? That didn’t sound promising.
The ghosts’ complaints of us holding up the line grew louder. King Yama’s face reddened. “All right, all right!” He pointed a stubby, dirty finger at us. “I don’t know why there’ve been so many annoying
