As she stared at Wukong, Trip realised that, besides his colouration and demeanor, there were other things different about him. He was now wearing a furry tunic and kilt. It was orange, with black stripes. Slung across his back, was a wooden quarterstaff.

Her eyes widened slightly, as she turned her head to the spot the Tiger-man had fallen the night before. The Tiger-man's corpse was no longer there. All that remained were several drops of blood.

Half-dreading the answer, she asked Wukong, "What did you do to the remains after skinning it?"

"Oh, the Tiger-man? He wasn't doing anybody any good just lying there, so I turned him into yummy-yummy in my tummy!", Wukong grinned proudly.

Resisting the urge to gag, Trip took a deep breath. Calming herself down, she faced Wukong with a stern expression, and said "About last night --"

"Haha! I got a bit carried away fighting that Tiger-man, didn't I? But that's all in the past, and daylight's a wasting! Let's go!", said Wukong as he quickly marched off away from the campsite.

With furrowed brows, Trip stared at the rapidly receding figure of Wukong, which had turned back to walk back to her.

"Mistress, which direction are we headed for?"

"South, for now."

"Got it!"

"Wait for me to pack up first."

"Yes Mistress! Let me help!"

"No."

***

As they travelled through the forest, the trees became more sparse, while the terrain became even more mountainous. At first, the mountains alternated between gentle and steep slopes, though always covered with greenery. However, as the sun rose towards its zenith, it seemed as though the mountains grew closer, showing cliff-faces of bare granite, while covering the group in deep shadow. Onwards, they trekked on through winding paths between and sometimes seemingly through the mountains, until the sun began its' final blazing descent towards dusk.

As they walked through a small valley, they came across an archway framing stairs that consisted of stone steps cut into the mountainside. On the archway were chiselled the words "MONASTERY OF LGS" and "LADY OF THE GEAR AND SPRING". On one pillar of the archway, there was an icon of a stylized gear; on the other, there was a curious icon of two springs intertwined in a double helix pattern. The stairs snaked sideways and upwards into the upper reaches of the mountain.

Trip walked closer to the pillars. Slowly, hesitantly, as thought she could hardly believe it, she gently caressed the icon of the gear. For a few moments, she stood still, seemingly lost in her thoughts. For those few moments, she seemed to stop giving off the impression of being an arrow drawn as far back as the bow would allow, as her eyes grew misty. Then, dashing the back of one hand across her eyes, she resumed her usual demeanor of focused determination.

"We're going in."

The moment she said it, Wukong started bounding up the stairs, the golden tips of his fur sometimes glinting red in the orange light of the evening sun.

Trip mounted White Dragon, and followed.

***

BANG BANG BANG!

A series of loud knocks could be heard, shattering the serene stillness of the silent mountains. Well, silent except for the whooshing and whistling of the strong winds that had buffeted the party with increasing enthusiasm as they travelled up the stone stairs towards the monastery.

BANG BANG BANG!

"Heeyyyy! Open up! Open up for the Great Sage Equaling Heaven!" shouted Wukong, as he pounded on the heavy wooden gate of the Monastery.

At the end of the long series of stairs, was the massive wooden gate, 12 feet tall. On both sides, an equally tall wooden wall, made out of thick logs that looked so tough that it would take sharp axes the better part of a week to chop through. Even from this side of the gate, it was obvious that the monastery was built on top of a plateau. To their left, the mountain range continued upwards, while on their right, the wooden wall formed a large semi-circle that stretched into the distance, built right on the edge of the plateau.

"Wukong, I hardly think that these monks would recognise one of your many obscure titles. Perhaps another method of introducing ourselves would be more appropriate?"

"Oh c'mon Whitey, EVERYBODY knows I'm the Great Sage Equaling Heaven!"

"I highly doubt that."

Wukong ignored White Dragon, and was about to resume his forceful knocking on the gate, when the gate swung open, revealing a monk with a pleasant expression, looking at them curiously.

"Greetings travellers, how may I help you? My name is Brother Mender.", he said, as he smiled, revealing his laugh lines and crow's feet. His lively brown eyes were filled with the light of curiosity, alternating between examining Wukong and Trip. Although he was bald, he had a neat salt-and-pepper beard. His brown tunic had short sleeves and reached only to his knees, revealing a muscular physique that seemed more suited to a blacksmith than a monk.

"Greetings Brother. May the light of Technology never wane."

Brother Mender's eyes widened in surprise at Trip, before recovering.

"Ah, yes! May the light of Technology never wane! Are you... one of us, Sister? And who is this tame monkey demon you have with you?"

"TAME?!... DEMON?! I AM THE GREAT SA -- yffnng..."

Wukong's outrage and attempt at correcting the grievous case of mistaken identity was interrupted by Trip covering his mouth with her hand, and lightly pushing him out of the way, as she stepped forward and dipped her head slightly, as she took off her black hat, revealing her bald head.

"Please forgive my... associate. His name is Wukong. My name is Trip. I was a Monk of the Lady. Now, I pursue a different path. I'd like to ask for shelter through the night."

"Of course! Of course! Do come in! Please, let me bring you to meet our Abbot, I'm sure he would want to meet you!"

Brother Mender motioned them through the gate, into the courtyard.

From out among the tranquil mountains, the party stepped through the gate into a hive of human activity. In one corner of the open air courtyard, there were sheds of various sizes, from which the sounds of industrious hammering emanated. In another corner of the courtyard, a group of monks sat, fletching arrows or sharpening crossbow bolts. Other monks walked across the courtyard, transporting weapons of various types out of the sheds, then packing them into straw-filled crates..

"Please follow me, the Abbot's quarters are this way.", said Brother Mender, as he gestured towards the opposite end of the courtyard, where several different paths of stone stairs led to higher plateaus.

As a few pairs of monks walked past, carrying crates full of weapons further into the monastery, Trip saw that inside the crates, there were swords, sabers, spear and halberd heads, even bows and crossbows.

"Why are you producing so many weapons? Are you expecting a battle?" Trip asked Brother Mender.

For an instant, an expression of great distaste and anger crossed Brother Mender's face. It was made all the more obvious by how out of place the expression was, on a face that seemed more accustomed to smiles and laughter than frowns and anger. However, it was only there for an instant, then Brother Mender resumed his previous pleasant expression, a slight friendly smile on his lips.

There were two differences. This time, his eyes were no longer smiling. His tone, previously warm and welcoming, was now filled with bitterness.

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask the Abbott. The entire matter is beyond my... position. I am but a lowly gate guard and part time tinker. Please, let me take you to the Abbott. He should be able to answer any questions you have. "

-- Chapter 10, End --