Shu-Ling howls above me as her hands find my hair, dragging me backward, until my head is on fire with the pain. She throws me as hard as she can, and I fly in an arc, landing with my back against the fake stone mountain behind the pool. I feel something crack as I slide down to fall onto the stairs underneath. The pain shoots up my thigh, and every time I shift, it sends another jolt of agony through my body.

“You think you can stop me?” Even from this vantage point, I can see Shu-Ling with her hand gripped tight upon the hilt of the sword. She pulls it upward, inch by inch, straining with the exertion. Smoke seeps from her hand, like it’s burning her skin, but she doesn’t seem to feel the pain.

Is it too late? The strength slowly seeps out of me, and I shut my eyes, ready to be ripped apart by the waiting spirits.

Suddenly, my face is drenched with water, my eyes snapping open again at the shock of the cold. I look up to see something rise out of the fountain. A man dressed in gleaming red armor, a huge sword strapped to his back. I watch him step out of the fountain and stand on the floor of the mall, the water mysteriously disappearing the moment he sets foot on the tile.

In his arm, he cradles a headless statue. But all the blackness has been cleaned off of it. I can see the vibrant color of the statue’s robes, even though its hands and its feet are still missing. The man looks down at me sternly, and I stare at him, not knowing what he wants, before he slips the statue into my arms. He pulls his sword out of the sheath and then begins a complicated formation, as another symbol rises into the air above his head. Bagua, again, but the markings inside the shape are different this time. Just like his statue. The Night General.

A sound comes from above, and two more figures descend from overhead. One, a woman, dressed in robes of blue green. She holds a fan made of peacock feathers in one hand, and in the other, a book. Those are the tools of the General of the Dawn. The final man has dark brows and severe eyes. He wears a black robe embroidered with gold designs, and on his head is a hat with two pieces that come out from either side like wings. An official’s hat. The Judge.

I can’t help the gasp of relief that comes out of my mouth. The guardians are here. The gods have finally found us.

“No!” Shu-Ling stares at them in disbelief, Mr. Lee’s blood still dripping from her chin. “No! Not when I’m so close.” She turns to run, but the man in the red armor leaps in the air, and a whip snakes out of his hand as it wraps itself around Shu-Ling’s body and sends her crashing down on the stage.

Using her fingers, she draws a symbol in the air, and it explodes outward, catching the the Night General on the shoulder. He twists to avoid it, but the whip follows him, loosening its grip on Shu-Ling. She jumps nimbly to her feet and off the stage with a grin, the golden cage no longer able to hold her.

“Who will join me?” she calls. “We will fight back against the tyranny of the guardians!” The spirits are a mass of teeth and claws and limbs. They roar as they descend upon waiting generals, who are a whirlwind as they counter the attack.

Shu-Ling makes her way through her silent audience and toward the exit, intent on her freedom. But something ripples on the glass of the doors. One face emerges, another next to it. A tall, thin figure, dressed in white, with skeletal features. A short, stout man with bulging eyes and a bristly beard. She falls back into a fighting stance.

“You shouldn’t be here!” Shu-Ling screams, hands already busy drawing more shapes in the air. She throws them at the wardens, but they absorb the sparks, rendering them useless. Chains appear in the hand of the shorter warden, clinking as they fall to the ground. The taller warden wields a slender sword, as the two of them advance upon Shu-Ling. Lord Seven and Lord Eight.

Her arms drop to her sides as they push her to her knees. She does not try to struggle or flee any longer. She instead glares at them balefully as they wind the chains around her torso, hissing all sorts of vile things.

The air is filled with the sound of wailing as the guardians quickly dispatch the spirits that tried to fight them. Many of them, realizing the tide of the battle has turned, try to fly to the skylight to bang on the glass or rattle the exit doors. But whatever boundaries prevented Shu-Ling from making contact with the outside world before seem to still be capable of keeping the spirits locked in.

I keep an eye on Shen as I’m sitting there, watching the chaos unfold around me. Every time I shift my weight, my leg spasms painfully, so there is nowhere I can go. As yet another spirit cries as they are taken in by one of the guardians, Shen finally moves, groaning. His eyes blink open. He tries to sit up and yelps when he jostles his broken arm, only managing to flop himself to a half sitting position.

“I don’t think you should move,” I tell him.

He turns his head to look at me and then winces when he attempts a smile. Half of his face is already puffy and bruising.

“Probably good advice,” he says. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better.” I nod, the relief rushing through me with the knowledge he’s still alive, then I add: “I think my leg is broken.”

Delia appears at the other end of the stage. She bends down to check on someone, and I can see the tenderness in her expression. In the way she reaches out to try and touch them, but her hand passes through. Something pained crosses her face. Regret? But then she stands up and makes her way toward us.

“Wow, you’re in a sorry state,” Delia comments as she plops herself down between us, addressing Shen. He cranes his head to try and say something to her, but then winces at the pain.

“What do you think the afterlife is like?” She meets my eyes then. “Do you think there will be cats?”

“What are you talking about?” I glance at her. “You’re…you’re coming back.” Then I remember her body beneath the Wall of Wishes. All the blood spiraling to the statue. The fire that burned there…Is there a body she can return to? What if this means she’s actually gone?

“I’m dead, remember? With a capital D.” She makes a slicing motion across her throat, then, more serious, she pulls her legs toward her and folds her arms on her knees. She still has that gray pallor.

The three of us fall quiet for a few minutes while watching the guardians capture more spirits above and around us. As unreal as any action movie.

“I’m ready for what comes next,” Delia says slowly, appearing slightly faded now. “If you see Hope, and she remembers me…take care of her, okay?”

“We will,” Shen tells her. I nod, already feeling the tears welling up, because even though I’ve known her for only a short while, she’s made me feel accepted as a friend.

“Thanks.” Delia grins. “Also, there’s a cookie tin in the cupboard above my fridge. It’s blue. There’s a bunch of sewing stuff in there, but underneath it all is a few hundred dollars. My emergency stash. The two of you go on a date. Somewhere nice.”

Shen and I both sputter, shocked that she’s bringing this up at the most awkward time.

“Promise me! Don’t cheap out.” Delia remains insistent. “Ruby can pick. Go to one of those fancy places by the waterfront. You pay for it all.” She looks down at Shen, trying to appear stern.

“Yeah, okay,” Shen finally agrees, meeting my eyes. Something warm rises in my chest. At whatever this is between us, new and forming. Or it could be internal bleeding. Who knows. I start to giggle and then start half coughing, half wheezing.

“If you survive this far only to choke to death, I’ll drag you out of the afterlife myself,” Delia threatens. I chuckle again then, genuinely this time, trying to stop myself from sobbing. “And don’t forget to feed Rabbit.”

“Gods,” Shen groans, exasperated. “What else are you going to add onto your list?”

“Rabbit? You have a rabbit?” I ask, confused.

“It’s the calico cat that’s as round as a Swiss roll,” Shen tells me. “The one that she brings to the café all the time.”

“Hey! She’s big-boned! You take that back or else I’ll break your other fingers,” Delia threatens with a laugh. I can hear sirens over the commotion of the battle. In the distance through the entry doors, red and blue lights appear. The police, the ambulance, the firefighters, they’re here.

There are muffled shouts, people calling out, but they seem very far away. It feels like I’m floating away from the world. The sight of those lights remind me it’s almost Christmas. Tina’s favorite holiday. I should tell Baba to put up the lights.