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Lucienne darted toward the hole, looking up. On the roof a few yards away from the edge of the open ceiling sat a marble lion head. “I didn’t blow it up!” she said with delight, tossing a military grappling hook. Its claws caught the lion’s head.

Lucienne tugged on her end of the rope, making sure the hook bit the lion tight. Pulling the earplugs out of her ears, Lucienne jumped up the rope and climbed with the skill of a lizard .

The monks’ shouting boomed through the passage. They were suffering hearing loss from the blast, but that didn’t stop them from charging blindly toward their enemy.

Lucienne yanked out a seven-foot steel whip, and Vladimir produced his sanjiegun.

The sanjiegun was state-of-the-art, with three sticks linked by steel chains.

He spun it through the air, warning the monks to back off.

The sanjiegun whooshed. To enhance the effect, Vladimir mimicked Bruce Lee’s battle cries.

The warriors exchanged looks of annoyance, then fury. But in Lucienne’s eyes, her partner’s moves were like poems. What a magnificent animal! she thought. In a few seconds, she had reached the ceiling. Her long legs swept up onto the roof. Lucienne landed in a crouch, amid the debris.

“Hey, Lucia, don’t leave without me!” Vladimir called. “The monks will tear me apart.”

“I doubt it.” Lucienne swung the rope toward him. Still wielding his sanjiegun, Vladimir snatched the rope and started climbing. The monks charged like a runaway train.

Two spears from opposite directions thrust toward Vladimir. One spear went for his ribs while the other tried to slice the rope above his head. Vladimir’s sanjiegun snapped out, knocking the sharp head of the spear away from his ribcage. “That was mean, dude,” he told the monk in Tibetan.

Wrapping her feet around a bronze bell at the edge of the ceiling, Lucienne dove back through the opening. Her whip lashed out, just in time to wrap around the other spear that almost sliced the rope and yank it up. The two monks attacking Vladimir staggered back, surprised.

Lucienne’s whip tossed the spear toward the ranks of the monks. The warriors fell back to dodge it.

Vladimir hoisted himself up to the roof like a big cat at top-speed. Forcing her whip to make one last stinging snap, Lucienne followed him.

The broad open space brought Lucienne joy—cloudless blue sky and endless tiled roofs.

The late afternoon sunlight trickled through Vladimir’s golden eyelashes, turning his hazel eyes the color of the sun-dazzled ocean.

His golden brown hair captured the sunbeams and smelled of spring rain.

Lucienne drank in the sight of his beautiful tanned face, smiling as if swimming under the influence of aged wine.

“Can’t get enough of me, I know.” Vladimir flashed a lopsided grin. “But now’s not the time for romance.”

“You’re being ridiculous again.” Lucienne’s smile turned to a growl.

Vladimir dragged her up. “Well, here’s something that’s not ridiculous—run!”

Lucienne glanced over her shoulder to see the monks climbing through the hole in the roof.

Vladimir and Lucienne dashed onto the rooftop.

Under their feet, Samye Monastery was laid out like a giant mandala.

“We’re far from Wuzi Hall,” Vladimir said.

Wuzi was the main temple that represented Mount Sumeru.

The Tibetans believed that Mount Sumeru was the mythical mountain at the center of the Universe.

Lucienne had witnessed how the pilgrims prostrated toward the temple.

“We’re close to the east corner of the Ling temple,” Vladimir continued, looking at the mountains in the distance. “We’ll get to the wall and climb the mountain, then head to our glider. What would you like for dinner?”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t worry about dinner right now,” Lucienne said. “Look down.”

Tibetan drumbeats blasted from the courtyard.

A dozen warrior monks made their way through the herdsmen’s ritual dance, followed by at least a hundred monks maneuvering through dancing girls wearing pink hats.

The crowds clasped their hands and followed the dancers’ chanting, as if sword-carrying monks and explosions were simply part of the celebration.

Lucienne and Vladimir hopped from a sloping shingle roof to a cement-tiled roof.

“We need to break for the wall at the southeast corner. It’s closest to Mount Hepori.

” Vladimir pointed at an oval stone wall topped by tiny chortens that surrounded the entire monastery.

The gates were heavily guarded by the warrior monks.

“Between the wall and Mount Hepori is a vast plain,” Lucienne said.

“So? I heard you’re a fast runner.”

“My costume isn’t designed for running.”

“Easy, Lucia. I got you in; I’ll get you out. I promise.”

“I hate promises.”

“Me, too, but I don’t break them. I’ll get you out, even if I don’t make it.”

“I won’t leave you behind.”

“You must if the situation calls for it, Lucienne Lam.”

“If the situation calls for it, will you leave me?”

“Without a doubt,” Vladimir said. “This is about being practical. It’s about survival. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“That’s heartwarming,” Lucienne said coldly. “But you just contradicted yourself on your promise of getting me out.”

“Men are complicated, aren’t we?” Vladimir sighed.

Lucienne ignored him. It was better than showing the contempt she felt.

They came close to the wall at the southeast corner. Vladimir jumped off the roof, and Lucienne followed. As soon as he saw her rolling, then popping into a crouch, he broke into a run toward the wall. Lucienne sped after him. “Give me the bat hook,” Vladimir said.

Lucienne pulled out the military hook from her bag and handed it to him.

Vladimir launched the hook. Its claws clutched around several chortens.

“Go!” Vladimir flung the end of the rope to Lucienne.

The next instant, she had reached the base of the wall and started climbing while Vladimir stood watch on the ground.

Lucienne flipped to the other side of the wall and hurled the rope back to Vladimir. “You got it?” she asked.

“I never miss.”

A moment later, she saw Vladimir atop the wall, carefully avoiding the sharp chortens. He landed easily, retrieved the bat hook, and ran after Lucienne toward the mountains. The threatening sound of drumbeats faded as they put distance between themselves and the monastery.

“The sweet taste of freedom.” Vladimir laughed. It was short-lived.

Waves of red and yellow robes rose on every mountain, flapping in the wind.

“They’ve discovered our glider and cut out our escape route,” Vladimir said. “Maybe Samye is indeed protected by Bon demon. I never should have parked near the sacred Hepori.”

“Isn’t it a bit late to wallow in regret now?” Lucienne said. “We’ll just have to fight our way out.”

“You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you?” Vladimir accused, pulling out his sanjiegun.

Lucienne arched an eyebrow. “Do you have a better option?”

Usually Vladimir adored the way Lucienne arched an eyebrow.

But he didn’t seem to be in the mood, especially when a large army of warrior monks emerged from the base of snow-capped Mountain Hepori, and hundreds of monks ran out of the monastery behind him and Lucienne, shouting unnerving battle cries.