Demon Hunters (Chi Warriors Book 2) Read online

  By Ino Lee

  Chi Warriors

  The Mark (Book 1)

  Demon Hunters (Book 2)

  War (Book 3)

  Demon Hunters: Chi Warriors (Book Two)

  Copyright © 2015 by Ino Lee.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-0-9915895-2-4

  e-ISBN: 978-0-9915895-3-1

  1

  A BLACK CROW LANDED in the inner courtyard of the Shaolin Temple. It hopped around and let out several husky squawks, drawing the attention of a guard posted along the eastern facade. Just as the sentry took a step to investigate, the bird took off in a flurry of feathers. The suddenness startled him, and he did not see the shadow blur across the landscape. He looked around for a few more moments, unsettled by the visit of his late night guest, but settled back into position, seeing no further disturbance.

  Above the guard’s head moved a dark figure, clinging to the underside of the temple’s flared overhang with two sharp metal hooks. Slowly, it moved forward, hand over hand, inching its way across the rafters and around the eaves to the second floor. No guards were posted there. The crow landed on the terrace railing and watched.

  Too easy, the demon thought. It had infiltrated the outer gates and bypassed two levels of security without resistance. Surely the monks were more prepared than this; then again, they had probably never faced such a formidable adversary before.

  The demon continued up the temple, moving with silent efficiency, not stopping until it had almost reached the top. It peered over the ledge of the terrace and saw guards, the closest of which opened his eyes from meditation, sensing something unusual.

  Immediately the crow landed on the railing next to a lantern and squawked repeatedly. The monk grabbed his staff and moved toward the bird suspiciously. When he got close enough to see it clearly, he noticed that the bird had four eyes. This was an ominous sign. Unlike the red, three-legged sun raven, this was a dark bird only found in the lands of the Koon Gee. Before the monk could warn the others, a hook punctured his skull.

  The lantern went out.

  The demon lay its victim gently on the floor and unsheathed a saber on its back, then stuck to the shadows. Another monk moved within proximity and noticed the unlit corner, but not the fully manifested lo-shur demon that moved in on him in the blink of an eye. The sword thrust came quickly. The guard examined the demon’s rubbery black skin, purplish-red eyes, and human-like form as the life drained from his body. How was this possible? How could a lo-shur manifest itself here? He noticed the glowing ember in its chest, radiating an aura of energy. Could it be that the lo-shur carried a chi shard?

  The demon pulled its saber from the monk’s body and placed him down as quietly as the first. More movement could be sensed. It would be nice to get some more killing in before the end, it thought.

  The lo-shur stormed into the central chamber and beheld the Infinity Pool, clear and iridescent with power, longtime the bane of the Koon Gee—and was filled with awe. Never before had a lo-shur demon laid eyes on it. It rushed forward and struggled to move as the pool’s pure energy countered its own and tore at its being. Wisps of smoke ripped from its body. Still, the demon willed its legs to keep moving, up the platform’s brief steps, all the while fearful of losing momentum and being annihilated before its task was complete. It clutched its chest with both arms and cradled the dark chi shard that kept it whole.

  As the demon pulled within reach of the water, its body began to disintegrate. It gathered its last bit of strength and leaned forward to jump. The radiant energy destroyed its form, but from the demon’s core emerged the dark shard. The concentrated energy of the chi crystal was the opposite to that of the temple’s pool, causing the water to bubble and mist to explode.

  Shaolin was compromised.

  Grandmaster Tienkow jolted forward in his bed. For a split second, the image of a lo-shur had flashed in his dreams. He rubbed his face and tried to shake it off, but something was wrong. His core felt out of balance. Perhaps he was getting sick or it was just old age, or perhaps it was something more.

  He rose from bed and reached over to his nightstand for a kettle of water, pouring it into a bronze cup with etchings of tortoises. The cup was heavy but he liked the feel of the cool metal as it pressed against his lips, the water soothing his frazzled nerves. He examined the cup in the moon and starlight coming through the window, turning it slowly and admiring the intricate etchings, its lines still crisp after so many years. A humble craftsman gave it to him decades ago for saving his village from a pack of marauders. Tienkow was so impressed by his handiwork, he then invited the craftsman to Shaolin to train the smithies. They had become good friends over the years, but alas, he too had grown old and passed away.

  Tienkow walked to his window and peered outside, then took a seat in a comfy chair. He often spent many evenings sitting there, admiring the northern view as the sun went down. Tonight, everything looked normal and the world seemed at peace, but as he closed his eyes and drank again, he saw the image of the lo-shur.

  He breathed deeply. Still he felt unbalanced and knew it was not just old age. The feeling would not leave him. He promptly put on a monk robe and made up his mind to visit the Infinity Pool. He almost walked out the door empty-handed, but rethought his actions and looked for his war staff. Doing so made him realize how troubling the dream was. Was it a nightmare or a vision? He hurried.

  He found the weapon in his study, leaning on a chair where he had spent the afternoon reading a manuscript. He picked up the staff respectfully. This one was made from phoenix bone, which was light and channeled his chi well, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. He exited his private chambers and made for the staircase.

  He slept two floors below the Infinity Pool, in the west wing of the temple, where he had lived the better part of his adult life. When he was first accepted into the temple, he stayed on a lower floor in the east wing until he became the Shoukoo, the temple’s monk general, then moved to the west wing. He moved up a floor once he became an elder, and over a few doors upon becoming grandmaster.

  An open expanse appeared on the left. In the center hung a giant chandelier spanning many floors. It was beautiful and ornate, with lanterns and thousands of reflective crystals that provided light for the hallways. If one flared a light orb in the center, the entire wing would be set aglow. Tienkow was almost tempted to do so, seeing a figure down the hallway, but soon recognized its fragile gait. It was Master Gao, who had lived there almost as long as he had.

  “Gao,” he said. “What brings you out at this hour?”

  The old man turned and looked as if he had just come out of a daze. “I cannot sleep. I am unsettled.”

  Tienkow’s voice was heavy with concern. “As am I.”

  Gao leered at his war staff and understood. “I was on my way to the Infinity Pool.”

  “It is an uncommon thing for elder monks to both be unsettled, don’t you think?”

  Gao nodded.

  “Together.” Tienkow slammed the butt of his staff on the floor and a round gemstone at the top lit. Gao reached out and held onto the staff.

 
“Infinity monks,” Tienkow said. “I summon you.”

  There was silence.

  “Infinity monks,” he said again. “Respond.”

  The grandmaster lifted the butt of his staff again and began to walk quickly, cursing himself for not moving sooner. He pointed the staff at the chandelier.

  “Awake!” he said angrily.

  A thousand crystals sparkled.

  Gao trailed behind. “Perhaps I should get my staff?”

  “No, get Jaguan. Find Kai.” Tienkow’s voice was resolute.

  “You should not go alone.”

  “Then you better hurry.”

  “But Tienkow—”

  “I am grandmaster.”

  The grandmaster climbed the steps briskly, one by one, thudding his staff loudly against the wooden planks. After ascending a floor, his adrenaline kicked in and he found his old bones could move another. He tried not to think about what could be waiting above, but feared the worst. The last time a vision shook him so thoroughly, he thought Wong would die. Perhaps he should have waited for reinforcements, but the pool was too important.

  Nearing the top, he quieted his steps, cautious of waiting lo-shur. He closed his eyes but sensed no movement. He sensed death. The gemstone on his staff brightened to illuminate the walls, lessening the possibility of being caught by surprise. If a demon came at him, he wanted to see it.

  Tienkow stepped into the main chamber and was met with reflective mist. This was concerning. He raised his staff and found he could move the vapor back and forth like an obedient cloud. The water was laden with chi energy, making him certain it came from the Infinity Pool. Something drastic must have happened to have caused such chaos. He cautiously moved in and saw the body of a monk lying on the other side of the chamber, a saber sticking out of his back.

  Where were all the other monks? Dead? He crouched and circled with his staff to guard from all sides, but nothing came at him. After cautiously navigating up the pool’s steps, he looked into its turbulent waters, seeing a cauldron of opposing energies. A purplish glow mixed against white; dark chi struggled against light. He could only think of one thing that could have caused this, but it was too hard to believe.

  Answers would have to be found among the dead. The monk with the saber in his back probably didn’t see the kill stroke coming, so Tienkow looked for another. In a nearby doorway he saw a lifeless hand on the floor. He rushed over to investigate and turned the body, discovering a fatal wound in the monk’s abdomen. This was grim work, but the body would do. He was Cheng, a young disciple that had been assigned to the Infinity Pool for less than a year.

  “Sorry friend,” Tienkow said.

  He placed his hand on his forehead and concentrated; hopefully Cheng had not been dead for long. A connection was made and an image slowly appeared in his mind—the attacking demon moments before striking. The monstrosity was a fully manifested lo-shur entity, a kaigun-shur, with cold, dark amaranthine eyes that gazed into his as it took the life from him. Tienkow shuddered. Reading the minds of the freshly dead was never easy on first glance—you were always dying. He reached back further, past the more recent memories, and saw the demon approaching with a chi shard embedded in its chest. His suspicions were confirmed.

  He stood, his mind racing.

  Shaolin’s monk general burst into the Infinity Chamber.

  “What is this?” he said, an expression of shock and awe on his face.

  “Jaguan,” Tienkow called. “A dark shard was thrown in the pool.”

  “A dark shard? How can that be?”

  “A kaigun-shur.”

  Jaguan flinched with the Monk Staff of Shaolin and irradiated its tip. “Where?”

  “I don’t know. Probably destroyed by the pool.”

  He lowered his staff. “The shard—can it be fished out?”

  “Try. I’ll put the warriors on alert.”

  Jaguan approached the outer rim of the pool. “This is sacrilege.” He stepped in.

  Tienkow also rushed to the pool and raised his hands over it. “Shaolin!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Shaolin!” he said again, without any change. “The water is too turbulent. I cannot summon its powers to call the warriors.”

  Jaguan waded toward a dark spot in the moving water. “This task is impossible!”

  Tienkow ran back outside to the terrace and raised his staff, brightening it to the fullest. He waved it back and forth, trying to catch the attention of lookout towers on the outer wall across the courtyard. Getting noticed would not be hard unless the guards were sleeping—or dead.

  “Alaaarm!” he yelled. “Alarm!”

  A chi spark from one of the towers signaled back an acknowledgment. A loud blast of a zhuk’s horn sounded.

  “Good.”

  Soon another watchtower joined, followed by another. A squadron of guards rushed into the chamber, led by Tengfei, Jaguan’s second in command.

  “What’s happening?” Tengfei said.

  Tienkow moved back into the room. “A dark shard was thrown in the pool.”

  “Why?”

  The grandmaster’s realization came suddenly and effortlessly. “To disable it. They’re after Kai.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Help Jaguan. I must be off to Kai.”

  “The northwest tower,” a guard interrupted. “Why is there no alarm?”

  They all turned to peer at the silent tower.

  A long black arm reached over the terrace railing.

  2

  A CHU-YA SAT QUIETLY, eager to live up to its reputation as one of the most fearsome predators of the night. It had razor-sharp appendages for arms that could impale and eviscerate prey, a jaw that could rip through the thickest exoskeletons, and four powerful legs that enabled it to launch itself at great distances. It hunched upon an outstretched leaf and waited. Beneath crawled a horned beetle, almost twice its size, which it jumped on and disposed of with a single, efficient thrust of its arm.

  Wong observed all of this, sitting in complete darkness on a stump across the way. An owl hooted in a nearby tree.

  “I know. Impressive.”

  He looked away toward the water, wondering how strange it was for him to watch insects hunt while talking to an owl. He sighed. Probably not that weird for a guy who lived in isolation with demonic powers growing inside of him.

  Mount Shaolin appeared in the backdrop, Wong’s cabin off to the side. Although he only meant for this to be a temporary place to stay, it was actually quite nice, with sturdy hardwood walls that folded in, a slate-tiled roof of Tang construction, and a wraparound porch. Living in isolation made him fidgety, and he often found himself tinkering and making unneeded improvements—the current form resulting from such efforts. He even added a nearby garden and training area.

  Steps could be heard from afar. They were light and gentle—most likely that of a woman—and were followed by the soft patter of four paws. From the brush appeared a small chi spark that emanated from the tip of two outstretched fingers to light the way.

  The visitors approached Wong’s cabin and walked over when they spotted him. His back was turned.

  “Hello Tae.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Hooti told me.”

  “Who?”

  “Hooti.”

  He pointed nearby, toward the trees, his back still to them. Tae flared her light orb a little brighter and spotted a giant pitch black eagle-owl with stunningly yellow eyes. It was an old but magnificent creature.

  “Say hi, Hooti,” Wong said.

  The owl remained silent and blinked a couple times.

  Tae cut her light and took a seat on a nearby log, feeling slightly unsettled about their reunion. Something seemed off. Not only was Wong sitting on a stump in complete darkness, but his
mannerisms seemed troubled, at least to her. She could see past his quirky facade.

  An albino foo dog sauntered over to Wong and licked him on the face. The guardian lion-dog’s giant head nuzzled against his, though it was larger than his torso. She had large googly eyes, a wide jaw, tight curly hair that gave her a cuddly but mischievous look, and a large muscular frame with sharp teeth and claws that warned of danger.

  “Hi Yinshi.” He pushed back the creature and rubbed her neck. “I guess you led Tae to me in the dark, huh?”

  Yinshi responded with a deep, powerful grumble.

  The beast nonchalantly examined the area as if it were hers and picked out a spot on the ground before lying down. Her white silhouette stood out sharply against the darkness. Wong turned his attention back to Tae.

  “So how are you Tae? What brings you here?”

  “I came for more training. And to see you. Is everything all right?”

  He sensed her uneasiness. “Of course.”

  “Really? You . . . seem a little off.”

  He smiled. “That’s because I know when I’m about to be lectured.”

  “I didn’t come here to—”

  “I know.” He stood up, walked over, and gave her a hug. “Thanks for coming by.” He sat on the log beside her. “Wait, let me make a fire. You must think I’m crazy sitting here in the dark. I’ll put on some tea.”

  He rushed to the porch of his cabin to retrieve a few items.

  “No, you don’t have to do all that,” Tae said. “Just a lantern maybe.”

  “I ran out of lantern oil several weeks ago.”

  “Several weeks ago?”

  “Yeah. I don’t use lanterns much anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t need to use my chi to see in the dark anymore. I just see it naturally now. Bright light sometimes gives me a headache.”

  Tae looked concerned. “Do you still have nightmares?”

  “I don’t know if they’re nightmares. My chi is just going through a change. I sleep better since I moved out here.”