Tibet
“I t’s a rook.” I grip it and show it to the Pillar.
“The second piece of the puzzle,” the Pillar says. “I bet you can unscrew it open.”
“I can.” I am still looking at the mysterious piece. “Is this also made of Lewis’s bones?”
“Without a doubt.”
“You think it will lead us to Carroll’s Knight?”
“Eventually.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember when I told you I think I know what’s going on with the Chessmaster, back in the tomb in Marostica?” the Pillar says.
But before we have a chance to discuss his theory, I realize the monks are surrounding us from all directions.
“What’s going on, Xian?” I ask the old man.
“I believe Cao Pao Wong knows.” Xian hides behind the Deep Blue machine.
The monks look angry now, balling fists against fists, making creepy faces, and murmuring angry words I can’t understand.
“Pillar?” I say worriedly.
“Do you still know None Fu, Alice?” the Pillar asks, taking a strange martial arts position, reminding me of Kermit the Frog.
“Why are you asking?” I say.
The answer materializes in the monks readying themselves in warrior positions. All at once. They’re mastering the hardest position I once saw in Jack’s None Fu book.
“I hope you can deal with orange belts in None Fu.” The Pillar shrugs, taking a None Fu position himself now.
“I have reached the highest levels in the future, but right now I think I still am a blue belt.”
“Blue belt isn’t good enough,” the Pillar says. “Orange belts will kick your sorry little butt in the air, somersault you, and lay you down on a sword.”
“So what are we going to do? Why do the monks want to kill us? Don’t tell me it’s because of the visa.”
“Part of it,” the Pillar says. “They must’ve realized I played them.”
“Which makes it time to tell me what you were doing here before.”
“I know why he was here before.” Xian raises a hand from behind the machine.
“Speak up, Xian,” I demand.
“Cao Pao Wong is—I mean was our…”
“Your what?”
“None Fu master,” Xian exclaims. “He taught the village the art of None Fu years ago, so we could face our enemies.”
“You know None Fu?” I glare at the Pillar.
“Used to. Frankly, I can’t None Fu anything at the moment.”
“You forgot None Fu?” Xian is shocked for the hundredth time. “That’s impossible.”
“Stick with me, Xian.” I steady myself and breathe, eyes on the slowly approaching monks. “Why would they want to kill us if Cao Pao Wong was their None Fu master?” I am not accepting answers from the Pillar at the moment.
“Because it turned out not to be None Fu,” Xian says.
“Don’t confuse the fu out of me, Xian. I am not following.”
“I needed money, and I was lost in the snow, being hunted down by an old enemy of mine,” the Pillar says. “I needed the monks to trust me and help me travel out of this frozen land, so I played them and taught them None Fu.”
“Which wasn’t really None Fu,” Xian elaborates, scratching his head. “When the monks used his technique against the wolves threatening our families each winter, they all died. That’s why the Pillar shaved his head; so they wouldn’t recognize him. He had hair then.”
“That’s why.” I sigh. “Why am I not surprised?” I tell the Pillar.
One of the monks approaches me and speaks in English. “None of this is why we’re going to kill you.”
“Your accent is great.” The Pillar flashes a thumbs-up. “Pretty sure you’ll get the visa.”
“Shut up,” the orange monk says. “We know you fooled us, but we’re civilized and forgiving people.”
“That’s definitely a bonus for getting the visa with today’s hostility and terrorism.” The Pillar doesn’t stop. “America’s big on forgiveness—and mac and cheese, of course.”
“I told you to shut up,” the monk roars. “We’ll kill you because we’ve been waiting for someone to solve and open the machine and find the chess piece for years.”
“Now that’s truly civilized,” I scoff.
“She is badass, by the way.” The Pillar points at me. “You really don’t want to mess with her. She’s escaped an asylum. Killed her friends, her boyfriend, and a man who did nothing but sell muffins. She is brutal. A killing machine. No conscience at all. I dare you: if you can, kill her first.”
“Pillar!” I clench my fists.
“No need for games,” the monk says. “Hand us the chess piece or die.”
“You mean we won’t die if we hand it over?” I ask.
“No, you will die either way.” The monk shakes his head. “I just see them say it like that in the movies.”
Suddenly, the Pillar panics and stares at something in the sky behind the monks. “Look!” He points with all the fear of the world in his eyes. “A flying Buddha!”
“Really?” The monks turn for a second, and the Pillar kicks one of them unconscious, then another.
The monks are still looking upward, and I wonder what’s so interesting about a flying Buddha, if there was ever one.
The Pillar flattens the two unconscious men on their stomach, and pushes them near a steep, snowy slope, then sits upon one. “Sit on yours,” he says. “Time to ski. Kinda.”
I do, but the other monks have already figured out the Pillar’s silly Buddha trick. They start trotting after us in the snow.
The Pillar and I are already gliding down the slope of snow, too fast.
“We’ll get you, Cao Pao Wong!” the monks scream behind us.
“Villains always say that at the end of movies,” the Pillar shouts back. “It never works, even if there’s a sequel.”