Summary: [NOVELLA]. It's only an ancient myth that demons can become human. Tripitaka wonders if there might be some truth in that story. Of course, Monkey, Sandy, and Pigsy think she's nuts. The font demon is just there to obey and maybe to stab them in the back. Trip-centric. Humor/Drama/Action. Immediately follows "A Hero to Save Us All" (S1, Ep. 10). AU, probably.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own "The New Legends of Monkey".

A/N: So this. Love the show, and something about evil guys makes me want to change their lives. Anyway, here we go. Hope you enjoy!

The Sentinel

~ Chapter 1 ~

"Can't we, uh, dispel him or something?" Pigsy asked. He shuffled a few steps to the right and then a few steps back to the left. "His eyes follow me around."

"I don't trust him," said Monkey, as he leaned on his staff. "What if it has an idea that we don't like?"

Tripitaka sighed. "No. He'll be a useful ally. We can use him to get into places we normally can't."

"We've done a decent job of that already," Sandy pointed out. She used her thumbnail to scrape off something that'd dried on her battle ax. "Face it, Tripitaka. Monkey's right. We shouldn't trust this…demon."

They had returned to the dungeons of the Jade Palace after their fight with Devari. The courtyard had emptied of the defeated demons; and so they had gone to the cell where the font demons had been found. The single one left had been this one, the one that had fought Monkey, the one that had murdered the Scholar. This demon had said nothing in his defense as they spoke, but he loomed- -tall, white-haired, and menacing. Tripitaka straightened out her shoulders and stood squarely in front of him.

"Well, what do you think we should do with you?" she asked him.

His cold blue gaze flicked straight down his nose. "Only my master thinks. I am merely the instrument of her will."

"But you do have thoughts. How else do you decide to fight or to retreat?" she asked. "I've seen you bested by Monkey and magic yourself away before he could land a killing blow."

"That is not thinking. That is self-preservation."

"Ah. I see," replied Tripitaka. She gestured over her shoulder. "My gods here want to destroy you. What does your self-preservation tell you to do?"

"What is my master's will?"

"And if I told you to fall on your sword?"

He answered after a pause. Was it because she'd taken him off his guard? Or did it prove her point because he had to choose his answer? "Is that my master's will?"

She considered him a moment. He had destroyed the only home she had ever known. He had stalked her, relentlessly, had without mercy killed the Scholar- -the single person who she admired and respected and loved as a father- -and anyone else that had gotten in his way. He should be punished, she thought. But dispelling him was too easy, too…gentle. She may be Tripitaka, the hope of gods and humans, but she would not be soft on those who injured her and others.

"It is not. At least, not yet," she told him. "I'm curious. What do you know about summoning demons?"

"Tripitaka," interrupted Sandy. "Can we talk? In private?"

"Sure. Stay here," she told the demon.

"I will remain until you have need of me, master."

Monkey and Pigsy opted to stay behind as well. She followed Sandy outside the cell and around a corner. The foul stench of the sewers had leached through the walls and stunk up the air. The damp and the darkness had dripped great sheets of black, slimy mold down the stone walls. Tripitaka did not wish, under any circumstances, to brush against the unknown fungus, so she kept her arms tight to her body.

"What is it, Sandy?"

Sandy leaned her battle ax to the side, then turned and took Tripitaka's hands in her own. "Listen. I know that we need allies, and desperately so. However, we should not trust demons under any circumstances. You want to use this demon to our advantage, but he is too dangerous. He will turn against us at any given opportunity."

"Then we do not give him the opportunity. We get as much information from him as we can, and then…dispel him."

"What do you mean by information?" Sandy asked.

"I know mostly about the gods," answered Tripitaka, "but very little about demons. I have one or two old stories the Scholar told me, which were very general. I have questions, so many questions. I want to know more to understand what we're up against."

"And you think this demon will give you the information you seek?"

Tripitaka smiled. "Yes, I think so. Lend me a lock of your hair, and I will command him to tell me everything he knows."

"You promise that once your questions have been answered, you will return him to his place of origin?"

Tripitaka hesitated. "You mean kill him?"

"Yes," Sandy answered. "I mean kill him."

"Once I have my questions answered, I will release him from this realm." Tripitaka squeezed Sandy's hands. "This might give us the advantage we need against the demons. We might even find out where the other scrolls are if they've been removed from where Monkey hid them!"

Sandy took a deep breath, her piercing eyes closed then opened. "If you think this is worthwhile, then I'm with you. But if he even looks at you the wrong way, I won't hesitate to smite him."

"Thank you, Sandy. I will be careful," Tripitaka said. "Now, take Monkey and Pigsy with you and see what you can do to help the townspeople and the other gods we freed. I will begin interrogating the demon."

Sandy unsheathed a short knife from her belt and in one swift movement, sliced a white curl from her voluminous, unkempt nest of hair. She handed the lock to Tripitaka. "Here. Command him to obey and protect you no matter the cost. Please."

"I will do so," Tripitaka replied. "Thank you. You are truly a good friend."

Sandy smiled and patted Tripitaka's shoulder. "I'll get Monkey and Pigsy. Good luck."

She took up her battle ax and strode down the hall and back around the corner. Tripitaka examined the white lock of hair between her fingers. The font demon had been quite accommodating since her previous usage of the Font. He had obeyed her and called her master and that made her wonder. Sandy wanted her to use the hair that moment, but perhaps she could get what she needed without using it. She pulled free a handkerchief from her belt pouch and folded Sandy's hair into it, then tucked it back into the pouch. She would use it when and if she had to.

When she returned to the cell, Monkey remained, but Sandy and Pigsy had left. "I'm not letting you out of my sight with…that," he told her as explanation. His contempt could not have been more obvious.

"Fine," she said. "Let's find somewhere less depressing to talk. Demon, follow us."

"I will follow you, master," he said.

Monkey mimicked him in a puerile taunt. "I will follow you, master."

The demon stilled, and she let him calculate his response to see what he'd say. "That's a pretty crown you're wearing. Is it for decoration?"

Monkey's face scrunched, nostrils flared, and Tripitaka stepped between them. "Enough. We're wasting time. Follow me." The demon is cunning, she thought, and more autonomous than he lets on. He might be more trouble than he's worth.

Having been reminded of Tripitaka's power, Monkey said nothing further and neither did the demon. Tripitaka had taken the dungeon keys from one of the dead guards, and she closed and locked the door to the Font. There was no sense in leaving it open; she would have to find and trust someone to keep guard of it, but that would have to come a little later.

Tripitaka led the long way out of the chilly dungeon and up several flights of steps. They wound through the Jade Palace to a veranda that overlooked the dismal courtyard. It saddened her that such a sacred and ancient place had been sullied with graffiti, filth, and the general disregard of anything beautiful and good. The sun was out, peeking from behind harmless clouds, and its rays were warm and cheerful. She leaned against a railing to gather together her wits; they were needed to spar with the demon.

Though the gods were able to recover their strength with a few hours' rest, Tripitaka had not slept well in many days and had not one wink the previous night. Exhaustion burned her eyes, and she realized a headache pulsed in her temples. The sun did not help her feel awake- -it lulled her, ebbing her energy. Her eyelids had grown heavy.

"Tripitaka?" Monkey asked. He hovered near her shoulder. "Are you well?"

"The little monk needs rest," said the demon from behind Monkey. "Even a foolish god should be able to see that."

The insult would have been brushed off had it come from Pigsy or Sandy. Since it came from neither of them, Monkey spun with his usual overreaction and gestured with his staff. "This foolish god will evaporate you where you stand!"

"Stop it. Please, Monkey, don't let him antagonize you," Tripitaka said. She pressed the bridge of her nose to clear some of the haze fogging her vision. "Demon, come here. I want to speak with you."

The demon shifted to obey that instant, but Monkey stepped in front of him, blocking him from Tripitaka's view. The god and the demon were chest to chest, eye to eye, inches apart. Though Tripitaka could not see Monkey's features, his tone gave her a vivid understanding of how malevolent his glare must have been.

"I'm warning you," he said, jabbing his finger into the demon's armored shoulder. "You're alive because she allows it."

The demon said and did nothing, his gaze fearless, and Tripitaka noticed that tiny smirk curled in the corner of his mouth. After another intense moment, Monkey stepped aside to allow him to pass. The demon stood a respectful distance from her, if only because Monkey would not have allowed him to stand too close. She studied the characters falling down his forehead from his hairline to the point between his eyebrows- -it seemed to be the spell that kept him in their realm. He had a personality under that pallid skin and unnerving gaze, and she wanted to uncover it a little.

"Do you have a name, demon?" she asked.

"I do not."

"Do names not matter to demons?"

"It depends on the demon," he replied. "Some demons assign themselves names. Some demons remember their names from before. Some demons have no use for a name."

Remember their names from before? That would be something she'd have to explore, but not now. "Which are you?"

"I have no use for a name."

"Everyone has use for a name. How do you know when you're being summoned?" It was a guess Tripitaka made; she wasn't sure whether or not names were important in summoning demons.

"The Font is cursed, and as part of the curse, I serve whoever uses it. For the summoning spell, all one needs to mention is 'strongest'. No name is necessary, as I am the strongest one."

"So there are other demons who serve the Font."

"Yes."

"What is the purpose of these questions, Tripitaka?" Monkey interjected.

She'd quite forgotten he'd been there and his sudden animation surprised her. The demon glanced to Monkey, and there was that smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth again. He must have a sense of humor somewhere inside him - -it was a reasonable explanation for the quirk. He had been standing with his arms loose at his sides, but he shifted, opening his hands.

The demon asked, "Does my master wish me to silence the interruption?"

"No, that is not necessary." She turned her patient attention to Monkey. "What I wish is to establish his abilities, Monkey. We must know the strengths and weaknesses of our allies and enemies before we can plan a strategy to defeat them."

Monkey leveled a serious look at her. "You sound like the Master."

"It is what the Scholar would say as well," she replied.

A vicious throb caused her to wince and rub her forehead. She'd ignored the headache up to this point, but the consistent pain could be abated no longer. In fact, dizziness swarmed around her, encroached her vision, and her knees weakened. She sagged, losing the battle to keep on her feet, and she fully expected to crash to the floor. That never happened. Firm hands caught her shoulders, and the pungent smell of well-worked leather and a smokiness, not unpleasant, which reminded her of a campfire, woke her up a bit.

"Don't touch her with your filth," said Monkey's hard voice, from far away. "I've got her. And don't you put your hands anywhere near her ever again."

Tripitaka blinked further awake. She felt…weightless, protected. Monkey had cradled her close to his chest, her head under his chin. "You must rest," he told her. "Once you've slept, you can continue this madness you insist upon."

She said nothing, but before Monkey turned, she received another intense glare from the demon. His default look was an ominous death-intent, so it could have been nothing or it could be he had thought to kill them. He could have done so, she thought, unwillingly. Why didn't he spring a surprise attack?

Her answer before she slid into blissful sleep should have unsettled her, but she conceded to her fatigue too quickly. Her answer to her own question was this: the font demon was biding his time.

A/N: Thanks to the single person who reads this, hah! See you next time, dear one.