With a cry, Nezha launched himself toward Erlang Shen. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up into the warm glow of Guanyin. The goddess of mercy wore a cold, almost thunderous expression on her normally kind face.
“You’ve been well, warrior?” she asked.
I nodded. “I—I have. But Erlang … he …?”
The sadness that crinkled Guanyin’s face told me all I needed to know. “Don’t fear. We may have lost one powerful ally, but many other deities might yet be swayed to join us. Now, I must help Nezha.” She patted me softly on the shoulder. “This is one battle I’m afraid he likely won’t win—not without my help.”
Guanyin soared toward where Nezha and Erlang Shen were locked in battle, taking her warmth with her. As the full realization of the warrior god’s betrayal hit me, fury bubbled up from the pit of my stomach.
Erlang Shen hadn’t just abandoned Guanyin and Nezha. He’d abandoned the warriors and humans. And if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was that dreadfully hopeless, lonely feeling of abandonment.
He wasn’t going to get away with it. Not if I could help it.
CHAPTER
27
Power surged through my veins as I hurtled toward the warrior god.
“No, Faryn! Go back!” shouted Guanyin. I ignored her warnings.
Erlang Shen laughed maniacally as I drew close. He turned his feverish, wicked eyes on me. The normal Faryn would have panicked. But somehow, I knew what to do.
“Zhǎng!” I commanded the Ruyi Jingu Bang. Grow. The staff became heavier in my hands, thickening and lengthening in my palm. I spun the weapon around my head the way I’d seen Sun Wukong do earlier and hurled the spinning staff at Erlang Shen. He dove out of the way. The staff instead slammed into the crowd of warriors surrounding Sun Wukong, toppling them out of the sky. The spinning Ruyi Jingu Bang followed them until it knocked every last one of the warriors down to the earth.
I turned my gaze back toward Erlang Shen, only to see that he was locked in combat with both Nezha and Guanyin. The boy god was surrounded by a blaze of fire as he rapidly wove in and out with his weapons, attacking Erlang Shen on all sides. Guanyin hung back. She’d drawn out her white vase and flung a droplet of clear liquid toward Erlang Shen. It sprouted into a huge vine that snaked over his body, rendering him temporarily immobile.
As my fury ebbed into anger, I realized the gods didn’t need my help handling Erlang Shen at all. And with Alex still engaged in battle, I had other business to take care of.
Sun Wukong floated down toward me on a cloud. He stared at me with a strange mixture of admiration and mistrust. “Where did you learn how to use my weapon, mortal?”
“I … was watching you earlier.”
He squinted. “You learn fast.”
I shrugged. Even I couldn’t explain why the Ruyi Jingu Bang felt so easy for me to wield. Maybe the magic of the Hungry Ghost Festival had extended a little bit to me, too.
“I didn’t need your help, by the way,” Sun Wukong growled. “I made those morons think they’d gotten me, but I had the upper hand the whole time.”
“Oh … right. I knew that.”
“As if I, the Great Sage, Equal of Heaven, would require the aid of a mere mortal—”
“Faryn! And Monkey!”
“That’s Monkey King to you!” Sun Wukong whipped around indignantly.
Alex had broken free of the spirits. After I dropped my gaze below, it was easy to see why. Most of the dead were now fixated on backing up the monkeys and engaging the Heavenly warriors in combat. Both black dragons had fallen to the earth, and they seemed to have been knocked out cold. Ren, still in his dragon form, picked off some of the last remaining warriors, one by one.
My brother glared up at us. As he drew closer, I appreciated just how eerily similar Alex was to the version of himself I’d seen back in the Chamber of Mirrors. He was definitely taller, his muscles more defined than before. There was a steeliness in his expression that hadn’t always been there, and his eyes made him seem much older than his true age.
“Give it up and come to our side, Alex.” I tried to keep my voice stern but big sisterly, even though my non-big-sisterly instincts were telling me to strangle him. “Think logically. Your warriors are down. You can’t win this battle.”
Alex’s expression scrunched up, as though he were actually giving thought to my words. Yes. At long last, I was getting through to him.
“Please, Alex. Please do the right thing,” I coaxed softly. I held out the memory elixir in the palm of my hand. “Just one piece of your hair will finish the elixir and restore Ba’s memories.”
“Ba’s memories …” Alex raised a hand up to his hair—but then paused. “Why would my hair have the power to restore Ba’s memories if I’m not even related to him?”
“You’re Liu Bo’s son,” I said simply. “And you are my brother, blood-related or not.”
Alex’s cold expression crumbled. I held my breath. Please, Alex. Please do this for Ba. For our family. For me.
I almost sighed in relief when my brother pulled a piece of hair from his head, reached out, and dropped it into the elixir. The liquid fizzed white and shook the whole vial, but I held on to it tightly. When the liquid settled, it had turned a brilliant red color.
“It worked,” Alex marveled. His eyes filled with wonder—and tears. “I … didn’t really believe it would work.”
My own eyes were suddenly a lot wetter than before. Tucking the elixir into my backpack, I stepped closer to Alex and held out my arms for a hug. “Of course it worked. Like I said—you’re my brother. My dì di.”
Alex inched forward and hesitantly opened his arms, as though about to accept my hug.
Sun Wukong barked out
