Monkey by Jeff Stone Page B

“I'm going to find me a nice big oak.”
    “Hang on,” Fu said. “Before you go, let me take a look at the scrolls.”
    Malao sprang backward on the trail. “I don't think so, Pussycat. It was my plan that got them back, so I'mgoing to be the one to deliver them to the monks at Shaolin. You're not going to take all the credit.” He grinned.
    “I'm not going to steal them, Malao. I just want to make sure someone isn't toying with us.”
    “I'm not sure I believe you,” Malao said, tapping his chin. “I tell you what. I'll look the scrolls over myself tonight, and maybe—if you're really, really nice to me—I'll let you take a peek when we get to the village. How's that sound?”
    “Stop playing around. Just give me one, okay?”
    “You're no fun,” Malao said. He pulled a scroll from his robe and handed it to Fu.
    Fu opened the scroll. “It looks like the real thing to me. I had to dry them out the other day, and I recognize this one.” Fu rolled the scroll back up and reached out to return it to Malao.
    Malao shook his head. “We should probably split them up in case something happens to one of us. You carry that one, and I'll carry the other two. All right?”
    Fu's eyes widened. “What?”
    “I know it's not nice to think about something bad happening to one of us, but—”
    Every muscle in Fu's body tensed.
    “Hey, are you okay?” Malao asked.
    Fu took a deep breath. “Malao, how many scrolls did you take from Ying?”
    “Three,” Malao said, slowly backing away. “Why?”
    Fu's eye filled with fury. “There are FOUR dragon scrolls, Banana Brain!”

Y ing woke to blurred vision and a fierce headache. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. As the world came into focus, he realized he wasn't in his tent. He was outside for some reason, next to the campfire. It was daylight, and a huge pot of
seefan
—rice porridge—was cooking over the fire.
Seefan
was the soldiers’ morning meal.
    Confused, Ying called out, “Number One Tong-long! Commander Woo! Captain Yue! Report to the campfire! Immediately!”
    Ying stood on shaky legs. He felt dizzy and nauseated. It took every bit of strength he had to stop himself from throwing up.
    Captain Yue arrived first. “Sir?” he said hesitantly.
    “What is going on?” Ying asked.
    Captain Yue fidgeted with his luxurious silk robe. “You fell asleep, sir.”
    “I fell asleep here?” Ying said. “Next to the fire?”
    “Yes, sir. Last night. Don't you remember?”
    “No.”
    Captain Yue turned away and stared off into the distance. “I wasn't here much, Major Ying. I spent most of yesterday evening getting a splint on my leg. If you'll recall, my leg was injured back at the village when my horse fell on it. Commander Woo had
his
leg treated first, so
I
had to wait. Perhaps if I had been treated first—”
    “Stop your whining, Captain,” Ying said. “Where is Commander Woo?”
    “Coming, sir!” Commander Woo said as he appeared from the opposite direction. Tonglong was at his side. Soldiers began to slowly file in around them.
    “We were looking for clues to what happened last night,” Commander Woo said. “We believe the young monks are responsible.”
    “Responsible for what?” Ying asked.
    Tonglong cleared his throat. “Check your robe, sir.”
    Ying looked down and saw that his robe was pulled open over his chest. His eyes narrowed. “The scrolls!”
    “Yes, sir,” Tonglong said. “As Commander Woo said, we believe the young monks are responsible. If you look where you were lying, you'll find tracks that are too small to have been made by an adult. We recently discovered matching tracks on the trail thatleads back to the village. We believe the young monks took the scrolls from you and have since headed back to the village.”
    Ying scowled. “How could this have happened? Where was I while all this was going on?”
    “You were asleep, sir,” Tonglong said.
    “And no one bothered to wake me?”
    “We tried, sir,” Commander Woo