“QUENTIN!” I screamed. I dove for the small sinkhole he’d left behind and clawed frantically at the loose soil.
Guanyin might have been yelling something behind me, but I couldn’t hear her with the blood pounding through my veins. I had only one thought, a name out of my nightmares.
Red Boy.
The demon who had nearly incinerated the entire Bay. Red Boy had scorched Guanyin’s arm into a mass of scars and mine into a smelted attachment of living iron. He’d nearly killed Quentin. The only way I’d defeated him was by burying him deep under the airless Earth, and he’d escaped somehow to deliver the same punishment upon us.
The lawn behind me exploded. Rubble and dirt showered down, a rock the size
of a paving stone thudding off my back. Grit got in my eyes as I tried to make out what was happening.
Quentin had reemerged with his assailant, their battle taking them back above the surface. He and the red man grappled at close range, not wanting to give the other an inch of room to maneuver. They smashed each other’s backs with their fists as they snarled and laughed and—
They were laughing. The terror clouding my eyes began to fade, letting me see for the first time that this man who’d attacked Quentin was a good deal taller and thicker than Red Boy.
And more clothed. Red Boy had been nearly naked except for a loincloth when we’d fought. But this new guy was wearing a panoply of silken robes that could have put Ao Guang’s ensemble to shame. Quentin’s fist-pounds had knocked most of the dirt off, and the gilded embroidery underneath gleamed like the sun itself.
He also had the biggest, densest beard I had ever seen on a living creature, human or not. His jungle of facial hair was so aggressive and bountiful that Quentin was nearly swallowed whole by it.
“MONKEY!” the man roared, loud enough to unsettle nearby birds into flying away. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
Quentin freed himself from the man’s follicles and shoved him to get some space. “Guan Yu! You old bastard, I knew it was you!”
“Lies! I waited there five hours for that prank, and it was worth it to hear you squeal!”
The two of them slammed their arms together in a thunder-clap of a handshake. They did it the old-fashioned way, each gripping the other’s bulging wrist. It turned into a contest of strength immediately. They grinned at each other over the tug-of-war, and it seemed like the air itself would snap in two from the torque they were exerting.
“What’s the matter?” Guan Yu snorted as Quentin budged a millimeter. “Gone soft? Too many peaches?”
Quentin pushed back, reclaiming the ground he’d given up and then some. “That’s pretty funny coming from a soldier who hasn’t fought a war since porcelain was invented.”
A small shiny object pinged into the air and landed near my feet. It was one of Quentin’s cuff buttons, popped off from the sheer power of their flexing. Given more time, their biceps would have caused a critical meltdown.
“It’s a draw!” Guanyin said, stepping forward in between them and laughing. “It’s a draw. Please, or we’ll be here until the next eon passes.”
Guan Yu let go of Quentin at her behest and bowed solemnly toward the goddess. Then he gave her a big smile, and an even bigger hug. “My lady, you are looking as radiant as ever.”
Guanyin bore his affection with aplomb. They stood on opposite sides of the Mandate Challenge, but it was clear they were on warm terms at the very least. “It’s good to see you too, General,” she said, patting his back.
Guan Yu put her down and noticed me standing nearby. “And who is this human child?” he asked.
I was going to make a sarcastic comment about him being behind on the news, but I remembered he hadn’t been present in the hall of the gods when I made my declaration.
“My name is Genie,” I said, going with the short version. “I’m the Ruyi Jingu Bang.” I extended my hand and prepared myself for another squeeze-war.
Instead Guan Yu took hold of my fingers like they were made of glass and bowed again. I was mildly disappointed that I wouldn’t get to feel how strong he was. I needed to know if I could take him if things got ugly.
The warrior god straightened up and looked at me with a similar sense of probing interest. “Most curious!” he declared at an earsplitting volume. An ear-splitter, this guy was. “I had heard tales that the As-You-Will Cudgel had taken a new form. But I never would have believed it until seeing you with my own eyes.”
He stepped back, curled his tongue, and let out a whistle that made the Tarzan yell of his speaking voice sound like a church whisper. Even Quentin and Guanyin flinched at the inhuman shrillness.
High above us, a slice of lightning formed in the air, growing bigger and bigger, until an elongated shape fired downward out of it. The projectile slammed into the ground in front of Guan Yu, sizzling from friction. It looked like a metallic green staff, as thick as a parking meter pole and three times as tall, until he gripped it by the still-smoking haft and pulled the rest of it free. The earth revealed a broad, yard-long blade that glowed like a lightsaber set to dim.
It was a gigantic guandao. A halberd. A big-ass sword attached to a big-ass stick. Guan Yu hefted his weapon over his head and peered at it. It didn’t catch the nascent sun’s rays so much as Hoover them up and spit them back into your eyeballs like a cobra.
“The Green Dragon Crescent Blade,” he pondered, stroking his beard with his free hand. “My companion of many centuries. If it ever reincarnates and leaves my side, I should certainly be up the proverbial creek.”
He held it between us as if I could translate for him. “What say you, Madam Shouhushen? Is there a spirit in there who needs to be let out? I would hate to exploit an unwilling armament.”