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Five monks blocked the doorway of the chapel, glaring at their intruders.

Lucienne’s Tibetan was limited, and she had a hard time understanding all these monks shouting at the same time. “What are they fussing about?” she asked.

“They said we aren’t going anywhere.” Vladimir shrugged.

“I guessed as much.”

Vladimir sighed. “Are you ready, pumpkin?”

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Lucienne said, swiftly pulling out a gas mask from her worship gear bag and hooking it to her nose.

Before the monks could shout a warning, Vladimir had donned a mask and tossed a teargas canister in front of them. He and Lucienne shot through a spout of grayish smoke and a hail of coughing and collapsing monks. Stepping over their writhing bodies, Lucienne and Vladimir lurched out of Gonkhang Chapel and sprang through the hallway. At a safe distance from the smoke, Vladimir pulled off his mask with a grin. “That’s what I meant. We’ll walk away in plain sight. Blend in with the tourists and pilgrims.”

Just then more footsteps rushed toward them from the end of the hallway.

“Thanks for your confidence,” said Lucienne.

“Life’s full of unexpected twists,” Vladimir said. “Samye isn’t the Gelugpa lineage, but it still feeds thousands of monks.”

“Three hundred areKhampas.The best trained warrior monks!” Lucienne said.

“We’d better go down the secret passages then,” Vladimir said.

Turning on her heel, Lucienne followed the prince.

The passageway was long and narrow with brick walls. Lucienne brushed aside the colorful silk hangings from the ceilings, trying to control her panting. She had always hated small spaces. But at least the monks’ fading footsteps offered her slight comfort.

“You’re lucky that I know all the secret passages here,” Vladimir gloated. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

“No!” Lucienne said, alarmed. “Why? Are you?”

“Of course not. Who do you think I am?” Vladimir chuckled. “Five more passageways and we’re out of here. But I think I should give you a heads up. The second to last passage is a tunnel we’ll have to crawl through.”

“How long is it?”

“Close to fifty feet.”

Swallowing, Lucienne cursed Vladimir in her head.

Then they both saw it—moving toward them like rolling waves were monks in yellow robes and red belts, thrusting long spears before them.

“Khampas.” Vladimir inhaled sharply.

“You told me these were secret passages.”

“Yeah. I forgot the monks know about them, too.”

“Great. So what are we going to do about those spears?”

“Tear gas. It’s too tight to fight in here.”

Vladimir and Lucienne placed their gas masks on their faces in sync, before he pulled the pin and reared back for a long throw. With the canister still in the air, the monks put on gas masks.

Lucienne’s jaw dropped. Vladimir gestured frantically to go back the way they had come. When they turned the next corner, they heard more footsteps a few blocks ahead.

They slipped off their masks, their breathing labored. Behind them, the Khampas were in hot pursuit; in front of them, an assembly of monks roared.

“We’re being hunted,” Vladimir said.