“They will,” I reassured Moli’s father.
Forty-five minutes later, Manhattan’s Chinatown came into view. The place appeared just as it had been when we’d left it. Red lanterns and decorations for the Hungry Ghost Festival hung in the shop windows and streets. Everywhere, people milled about in the markets.
I led the stone lions to a landing in an empty alley.
“We’re here,” I shouted up at Sun Wukong. He and his monkeys hovered above in their cloud, peering down at us uncertainly.
“Hmph. This is a huge downgrade from the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit,” Sun Wukong said churlishly. His cloud landed on the ground and then disappeared, leaving a group of monkeys in the middle of the Chinatown alleyway.
The chariot turned back into a coin, which I tucked into my pocket. As I led us out onto the streets, it occurred to me how odd we must look: a trio of dirty, worn-down warriors leading a troop of monkeys, two massive black dragons, and one very angry-looking Monkey King.
Sun Wukong waved his Ruyi Jingu Bang through the air. Nothing happened.
“What was that supposed to do?” Ren asked.
“Turned us invisible,” the Monkey King explained curtly. Just as he finished speaking, a middle-aged businessman bumped into him. “Hey, watch it!” Sun Wukong snapped. The man reeled back, gaping at what he must’ve thought was thin air yelling at him.
“Oh my gods! The peaches are alive!” screamed a nearby shop owner, abandoning his fruit stand. Sun Wukong’s monkeys had helped themselves to the barrel of peaches, which would’ve looked to any outsiders like the peaches were floating in midair. Also, one of the black dragons had accidentally knocked over an entire stall.
Invisibility or no, we’d have to move through here quickly.
“Where can I speak to the king?” Sun Wukong demanded.
“There’s no king here.” Jordan snickered. “But there is Elder Xiong.”
“Then take me to this Elder Xiong!”
I made a beeline across the square, straight for the New Order temple. I had a feeling Elder Xiong would be in there, as he usually was at this time of the day. Once we’d all reached the temple, Sun Wukong waved his Ruyi Jingu Bang again, turning us visible.
Jordan pried open the great black doors and peered inside. “Elder Xiong?”
Several people were inside, praying. The two nearest to the entrance were Elder Xiong and Ba—Zhuang. They glanced up at the sound, eyes widening when they saw me there, along with probably the strangest crowd they’d seen in ages. Xiong stood up, and I knelt down on the floor in front of them. Beside me, Ren and Jordan did the same, followed by Mr. Zhao.
“Faryn, Jordan, and Ren.” Xiong acknowledged us with a nod. “You’ve returned, I see.” He narrowed his eyes. “And … Ashley?”
A heartbeat of tense silence. I opened my mouth, struggling to find an answer. I knew my words would be met with disappointment no matter what I said.
Jordan beat me to it. “Still down in the Underworld.”
“What happened? Why is she down there?”
“Ashley volunteered to exchange her own freedom so we could take a powerful weapon. But we can’t leave her there. We must rescue my sister, Xiong shī fu.”
“That indeed we must,” agreed the Elder. He turned next to Mr. Zhao, who gave him a respectful nod. “Brave Jade Society warrior, please stand. I’ve heard much about your role in rallying the Jade Society warriors against the plot of some of the gods. Thank you, Zhao Boyang.”
Moli’s father had always given me the impression of being a clumsy man, but now he stood tall and proud, back straight, chin up. I watched in awe as the Elders inclined their heads respectfully toward Mr. Zhao.
“The Elders are bowing,” gasped a familiar voice. Ah Qiao. “They never bow to anyone!”
“Shhhhh.” His mother.
Slowly, everyone around me sank to their knees. I did the same.
“Please stand.” Moli’s father laughed nervously. His cheeks were so flushed with heat, we could’ve fried an egg roll on them. “Please. I—I didn’t do much. Really. I just did what had to be done.”
“You may rise,” Xiong called out after another moment. In unison, the warriors rose.
A ghost of Mr. Zhao’s old, jovial smile passed across his lips, but it was gone in a moment. He had changed since the quest of the Lunar New Year, after Moli’s death. I wondered if he’d changed because of Moli’s death.
“We have much to discuss,” Xiong said gravely. “The warrior societies must stand in strong unity against the demons, or else we will all perish.”
“I agree,” Mr. Zhao said with an air of equal seriousness. “Our warrior societies must reconcile any and all differences if we are to protect humanity.”
Xiong swept his gaze across us with a tiny smile. “But first, you warriors must rest.”
“Rest?” Jordan cried out. “How do you expect me to rest when—?”
Xiong gave Jordan such a cutting look that he stopped speaking at once. “Please, brave warriors, tell us all about your quest.”
I nodded toward the monkeys behind me. “Elder Xiong, we believe we’ve found the ‘old ally’ from the shī. This is Sun Wukong,” I said, feeling kind of dumb. I was pretty sure the Monkey King’s identity was obvious. How many monkey kings were there, after all?
Xiong glanced past us toward Sun Wukong, who just sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re the king?” Sun Wukong asked. “Jeez. No wonder these kids are in a mess.”
Xiong didn’t seem fazed by the rudeness. On the contrary, he bowed his head to show respect. “I wouldn’t go quite as far as to call myself king, but I am the leader of the New Order. And you must be the legendary Monkey King, Sun Wukong, dà shèng.”
Sun Wukong’s chest puffed out. “The one and only.”
“What brings you to the New Order, Monkey King?”
“My monkeys and I …” Sun Wukong hesitated and pinched up his expression, as though asking for help were causing him physical pain—which it probably was. “We don’t have a home right now. We’re hoping you could give us somewhere to stay.”
“The two dragons need a place to stay, too,” I added quickly. “Thanks.”
“Dragons?” yelped one of the Elders in alarm.
“And?” I prompted, ignoring the murmurs of confusion and giving Sun Wukong a we-had-a-deal look.
He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. “And in return, we’ll help the warriors win this war against most of Heaven.”
Xiong nodded and stroked his beard. “Very well. We’ll make sure that Sun Wukong, dà shèng, and his monkeys will be treated as honored guests during their stay at the New Order.”
This seemed to appease Sun Wukong, because he actually shut up.
I took advantage of the momentary silence to step forward. “I—I need to speak to my father. The warrior Zhuang. It’s urgent.”
Xiong turned his gaze toward me. But rather than the confusion or surprise I’d anticipated, I saw understanding. “You have something to give him, don’t you?”
I nodded. I reached toward my backpack, where I carried the elixir. Xiong’s eyes followed the movement, a small, knowing smile stretching across his face.