Page 97 of Half Dead

“You know it?”

“Of course. The tablet is sacred.”

“And powerful, I know.”

“It was kept at San Ch’ing for centuries.”

A memory clicked into place. San Ch’ing was the residence of three supreme gods in Chinese mythology. “One of the three supreme gods was in charge of sacred books.”

“That’s right.”

“But the tablet was moved. Why?”

“The god decided it would be safer here.”

Lucifer said he’d sent others to retrieve the tablet and that none had returned. I assumed he’d meant to the island, but now I wondered whether they’d been sent to San Ch’ing, and that the god had moved the tablet out of an abundance of caution, knowing there would be further attempts. It was possible it had taken Lucifer’s spies this long to find the new location.

“Do you know where it’s buried?” I asked.

“No.”

“I have a map, but there’s no X marks the spot. Will you help me find it?”

Bruce sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that.”

“Because of your busy schedule.” I pretended to check animaginary watch. “Do you have a haunting at two o’clock that you simply can’t be late for?”

Chuckling softly, Bruce shook his head. “For someone who has requested my assistance, you could try exercising a bit of charm.”

I blinked innocently. “Thatwascharm. Has it been so long since you’ve experienced it that you’ve forgotten?”

Bruce’s body stiffened as he came to a halt. “Quiet.”

I stopped to listen to the distant roar. “What is it?”

“The nian.”

The name was familiar, but I couldn’t quite dredge it from the murky contents of my mind. “Sounds like a concern.”

He nodded. “We should keep moving. It’s too close for comfort.”

Another roar shook a memory loose as we left the rainforest behind. “It has a lion’s head with a horn that it uses to attack people.”

“Very good, yes. Keep moving.”

I scrambled up the hillside after him as a childhood memory snapped into place. “It’s associated with Chinese New Year.”

Pops had taught me about the nian one cold January day. I still recalled the chill of the living room; there’d been a winter storm that day and the house lost power. The burning wood in the fireplace had struggled to cope with the steep drop in temperature. I’d worn my rainbow-striped mittens in the house. After the lesson, my grandmother had given me a mug of hot cocoa that she’d heated on the wood-burning stove.

“That is the modern association, yes,” Bruce said. “One day a year, the nian would leave its home on the seabed and come ashore to eat villagers and livestock. The people began to flee to the mountains each year to avoid the monster.”

“Until one of the gods taught them how to scare the creature away with either the color red, loud noises, or fire.”

“Exactly, which is why we celebrate the New Year with firecrackers and red lanterns, to keep the beast from returning. When the island was transported to this realm, it happened to be the day the nian came ashore, so the monster was spirited away along with it.”

I surveyed the area. “No fireworks on the island, huh?”

“Unfortunately not. The beast has learned to survive by feeding more than once a year. It’s now larger and more terrifying than it’s ever been.”

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