“… That he’s gone?” Ashley supplied sadly.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s been six months already.” Jordan swallowed hard. “But Jinyu was the last guy any one of us would’ve thought would just …”
“Jinyu was the best fighter out of all of us,” Ashley agreed. “Nobody saw it coming.”
Even though I’d never had the chance to meet Jinyu, I’d heard so much about him that I felt like I’d known him anyway. If the stories were all true, the kid had brought down a huge demon by himself when he was just eight years old. Some of the rumors had to be exaggerated. Especially that bit about Jinyu’s favorite food being Brussels sprouts. Nobody likes Brussels sprouts. Jinyu had died during the Lunar New Year, at the too-young age of fourteen.
And it was your fault, Faryn Liu, a voice whispered in the back of my head. His death is all your fault.
A warm hand touched my shoulder. Ren. “Hey. You okay? Those guys—are they bugging you again?”
I shook my head. The siblings—well, Ashley—had demonstrated resentment toward both of us, but mostly me. I didn’t want Ren to think I was weak, so I usually just shrugged off their comments. This was nothing compared to the years of bullying I’d endured at the Jade Society. “Everything’s fine.”
“Jinyu should be alive.” Ashley’s voice grew louder. Colder. “It was only because that Jade Society warrior couldn’t hold her own during the battle that he had to step in, and then he—he—”
“Shhhhh!” Jordan turned around and glanced at me. My attempt at hiding behind the statue of Erlang Shen hadn’t worked at all. “Hey, Faryn. Hey, Ren.” He waved.
I managed a small smile and waved back. Ren just stared until Jordan got uncomfortable, coughed, and turned around.
Jordan had made it a point to be friendly and invited Ren and me to a bunch of events, but I knew what Ashley and a lot of the other younger warriors thought of me. They’d never see me as anything but the outsider who’d taken their friend away from them.
Ashley’s dark-brown eyes narrowed when they met mine. I looked away quickly, trying to ignore the guilt that rose in my chest.
Ashley had every right to be furious with me.
I could never forgive myself for what I’d done—or, rather, failed to do. That day often repeated itself in my nightmares: Jinyu leaping in front of me, slashing the huge black demon with his sword. Jinyu lying on the ground, broken, the light already faded from his eyes.
I clenched my fingers into fists. I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not in front of Ashley, Jordan, and the others.
“Looks like the ceremony is starting,” Ren said.
The adult warriors in front of me were so tall that I had to stand on my tiptoes to see. Craning my neck, I glimpsed flickering smoke from incense and heard low murmurs as the Elders prayed to the gods.
A sudden movement and creaking noise caught my attention.
I looked up—and shrieked.
“King Yama’s drawers!” Ren cursed.
“What is it now, Faryn and Ren?” groaned Xiong. “You cannot continue disrupting such a sacred cerem—AIYAHHHHHH!”
Slowly, the statue of Erlang Shen came to life, a golden light washing up his body from the tips of his black boots to the top of his helmet. Ignoring the shouts and cries of the New Order warriors, the warrior god flexed his fingers and smirked. His eyes landed on me, and familiar flames danced in their depths. He nodded. “Hello, Heaven Breaker.” Next, he gave Ren a nod of acknowledgment. “Dragon boy. Looking jumpy, you two.”
“Who … wha … I-I’m not the Heaven Breaker,” was all I could think to say.
Ren seemed to have collected himself in a remarkably short period of time. “Hi, uh … sir,” he said. “You’re looking … warmongery.”
“Thank you,” Erlang Shen said gruffly, shifting the collar of his armor. “That was exactly the look I was going for today.”
He swung his three-pronged spear from hand to hand, nearly hitting a pimply teenage boy. That was the war god—grumpy and borderline threatening as always. Many times, I’d questioned why the war god would even side with the human warriors. Most likely his dislike of his uncle, the Jade Emperor, surpassed his dislike of us. I supposed that was flattering.
The warriors around me gasped. A few of the children screamed.
Erlang Shen surveyed the crowd and made a tsking noise. “Well? Don’t stop praying now, humans. We need much more power than that.”
“We?” a nearby warrior squeaked.
A shudder racked through the air, and golden light encased more of the statues. First was the long-haired boy god Nezha, wielding flaming hoops in one hand and a spear in the other. As he came to life, Nezha twirled his weapons in a great arc that caused the front row of warriors to yell and duck for cover. “Thousands of years, and you never get sick of your silly dramatic entrances, ” said Nezha.
“Shouldn’t you know by now to be more careful with your power around humans?” chided a female voice. Goddess of mercy Guanyin’s statue came alive, wearing a serene expression on her face and a veil over her long black hair. “Boys, can’t you stop bickering long enough for us to deliver our important information to the New Order warriors?” Guanyin sighed. I guess it couldn’t be easy to be the eternal babysitter for the two hotheaded gods.
Erlang Shen, Nezha, and Guanyin: Where had they been all this time? After they’d dropped off Ren and me at the New Order during the Lunar New Year, they’d told us to lay low. We weren’t even allowed to tell the New Order warriors about the other gods’ true plot to vanquish the demons once and for all, at the cost of all of humanity. The gods worried that if the warriors knew about how dangerous the situation really was, they’d either be so racked with fear they’d be useless, or they’d attempt something drastic.
As far as secrets go, this was one of the
