Closing my eyes, I held the staff up to my mouth and commanded, “Take my friends and me back to the human world.”
For a long moment, nothing happened. I felt pretty silly talking to an unresponsive stick. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to use the Ruyi Jingu Bang after all. But I had to try.
“Try clicking your heels together?” Jordan suggested. “It worked for Dorothy.”
“Who is Dorothy?” Nai Nai asked.
Before anyone could catch my grandmother up on the last hundred years of American pop culture, the Ruyi Jingu Bang glowed and shuddered in my palm. A light enveloped me. The last thing I saw was Nai Nai’s kind, dark eyes, filled with warmth and certainty.
“We’ll see you again soon, Falun,” my grandmother said. “Until the Hungry Ghost Festival ends, you can use your prayer notes to summon us—and the rest of the warriors who’ve passed—to your aid, should you need it.”
“Why can’t you just come with us?” I asked.
“We aren’t strong enough to stay in the human world for very long. We’re still recuperating from our last trip. Good luck, Falun.”
“Good luck!” Jinyu called.
There was a jerking sensation in my navel. Nai Nai, my ancestors, and the world around me vanished.
I think I screamed, but it was hard to tell. I wasn’t even sure I existed anymore inside this vacuum. After free-falling for what felt like forever but was probably only seconds, I landed on two feet on the ground.
I opened my eyes and blinked against the strong, bright light from the sun. Around me, Ren and Jordan surveyed our surroundings, too.
Chatter in a mix of Mandarin and English traveled to my ears. The smells of burning incense and fried foods wafted toward my nose. Some elementary-age kids ran past me with their heads glued to their iPhones, shouting about finding a rare Pokémon.
We’d arrived back at the Panda Express in Philadelphia’s Chinatown.
CHAPTER
23
I led Ren and Jordan into a back alley of Chinatown, behind Chef Wu’s Kitchen and Lucky Kung Fu Tea.
“Is the coast clear?” I asked, reaching into my pocket for my yuán.
“Yeah, go ahead,” said Ren.
Jordan remained silent. I had a feeling he was going to be sullen for a long time. I couldn’t blame him. After Alex had decided he’d rather kick it with a bunch of warmongering gods instead of me, his amazing big sister, I’d felt as sick inside as if I’d consumed a whole bucket of Panda Express orange chicken.
But maybe there was still hope for Alex. If my ancestors’ predictions were correct, I’d be reunited with my brother soon enough. Even if I couldn’t persuade him to help us, I’d give him the biggest older-sister scolding of his life and, in the process, yank out some of his hair to complete the memory elixir. Piece of moon cake.
I tossed the yuán onto the ground. With a flash, the small coin turned into a gigantic chariot, complete with stone lions—right in front of a pimply teenage chef who’d just come out the back door of Chef Wu’s Kitchen. Regular mortals couldn’t see the chariot, but the guy must have seen something, because he dropped the large black garbage bag he’d been holding.
“Holy smokes!” yelled the chef.
“Nothing to see here,” I shouted, scrambling over the side of the chariot and taking the reins behind the stone lions where Ashley had been before. Ren and Jordan dove in after me.
The chef ran back inside. “Yo, boss, you gotta see this.”
I didn’t hang around to hear the rest. “Up!” I urged the lions. Up they took us, higher and higher, until Philadelphia’s Chinatown became the size of a toy town in the distance. We were back in the clouds. I pulled a small contraption out of my pocket—Ye Ye’s compass.
The ride back to Huā Guǒ Shān, which took one day and one night, was silent. I knew we were all worried about Ashley, Jordan most of all.
There was too much to say. Somehow that meant we couldn’t bring ourselves to say anything at all, except for a couple of times when I asked Ren to pass up the food. Even Pocky couldn’t lift my spirits today.
“You think Ashley will get hungry down in Diyu?” Jordan’s voice sounded croaky from disuse. He stared at his unopened beef jerky forlornly. “Maybe we should’ve left her some of this food.”
“I don’t think she’ll get hungry,” Ren said gently.
“If she does, there’s bubble tea down there,” I offered.
“How do you know she won’t get hungry?” Jordan countered. “Have you ever been trapped in the Last Glance to Home Tower in place of the Ruyi Jingu Bang?” When we said nothing, Jordan crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t think so. And what if Ashley needs to use the bathroom? I bet she’ll have horrible cramps after being trapped for so long.”
Ren coughed loudly enough that I took my eyes off the sky and turned around.
“I’m guessing that since Ashley will be, um, pretty frozen, all of her … human needs will be taken care of,” I said.
I waited for Jordan’s biting retort, but none came. I looked back. He was fast asleep, snoring, on a disgruntled Ren’s shoulder. Ren sighed and patted Jordan’s head.
The silence stretched on into the night. With Ashley gone, the chariot felt too empty. Too quiet.
When nighttime fell, it finally emerged out of the darkness—the huge, beautiful mountain. Brilliantly colored flowers bloomed with life, and birds soared above the trees. Huā Guǒ Shān, the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit.
“Down,” I commanded. The stone lions landed lightly onto the familiar bridge of the mountaintop where we’d been just days before. I let out a breath of relief as the chariot came to a stop. We’d made it back in time, and since we’d known where to go and went double speed, there were still two days left until the end of the Hungry Ghost Festival. Two days until, according to Nai Nai and the other spirits, the Jade Emperor would make his first move.
Jordan was still fast asleep, snoring on Ren’s shoulder. Ren’s face scrunched up in an expression that told me he’d just about lost all patience.
He leaned over into Jordan’s ear. “Wake up,” he shouted.
Jordan yelped and jumped in his seat, nearly tumbling out of the chariot. “Huzzah?”
“We’re here,” I said. “Come on. Time to greet Sun Wukong.”
“You might want to wipe that drool off your mouth,” Ren told Jordan.
Jordan swiped at his chin with his sleeve. After both boys disembarked from the chariot, I clicked the button on my remote. It reverted back into a coin that flew into my hands.
The last time we’d been to the Mountains of Flower and Fruit, there had still been some daylight. Now, at night, I could fully appreciate the mountain’s beauty. Under the dim glow of the moonlight, the tree leaves and bushes shone with dew. The branches rustled and swayed in the gentle night breeze. Before us, the waterfall shimmered as the water rushed downward past the bridge.
I was about to step through the curtain of water when Ren put a hand on my shoulder. “What?” I asked.
He squinted up at the top of the mountain, which was illuminated by the moon. “Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?”