Dragon Moon

by Carole Wilkinson

  It stopped snowing after a few minutes, and the cloud broke up and drifted away. But the day didn’t get any warmer. She tried again and managed to stand. Then using rocks to support herself, she hobbled up the hillside. But when she reached the top, the wind blew her off her feet. She slid back down the slope. She was better off sheltering in the gully. She ate the last of her dried meat and nuts, collected some of the thin layer of snow to quench her thirst and wrapped her bearskin around her.

  It wasn’t the cold that kept her awake, it was her ankle. Every time she started drifting off to sleep, the pain would be hiding in drowsy corners of her mind, ready to jump out and wake her.

  The next morning Ping didn’t move. She couldn’t think of any good reason why she should. She didn’t know where she was going, or why. She didn’t know what she was going to do with the rest of her life. Perhaps her life was over now that Kai had found his place in the dragon world. She had done her duty.

  As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she thought about her family. She could go to them and see if they could find a place for her in their household. But they didn’t need her. What about her friends? She could go to the Emperor and ask him if he could give her a job to do. But she had already refused his offer of love. She could go to Jun’s village and see if he had returned to his family. But what if he hadn’t? She couldn’t bear to find out that she had been responsible for his death. All in all, the best course of action seemed to be to stay right where she was, to sink into a warm, comfortable sleep and never wake up again. That seemed like an excellent plan.

  The sky darkened. There’s another cloud, Ping thought. The dragons have been busy. She looked up at the sky. It was a very black cloud and it was moving strangely. She realised it wasn’t a cloud at all. It was a black bird. A large black bird. It swooped down closer. It wasn’t a bird either. It was a dragon—Hei Lei.

  That was a different way to end her life, killed by a dragon.

  Ping felt the dragon’s talons dig into her shoulder and haul her up the side of the gully. Her ankle banged against a rock. She cried out.

  “Can you climb on my back?” Hei Lei said.

  Although she had lost her second sight, she could still understand the dragon. His red eyes no longer looked fierce. They looked like wounds.

  “What for?” She wondered if he was planning on flying her to a great height and dropping her.

  “So that I can take you to a place where humans live.”

  “You’re not going to kill me?”

  “No.”

  Ping pulled herself up onto the dragon’s back. She had no rope to secure herself. Instead she looped the strap of her bag around the dragon’s horns and then over her head and around her waist.

  “I’m—” Before she could finish, the dragon had taken off.

  This would definitely be her last dragon flight. She was glad she could see the view. She didn’t know where Hei Lei was taking her, and she didn’t care. Below, the mountains stretched in every direction like a huge length of crumpled cloth. Then they were up above the clouds in the sunlight.

  “You like flying?” Hei Lei asked.

  “I love it.”

  Hei Lei’s great wings flapped up and down on either side of Ping. He was flying against the wind but he didn’t falter. She felt her spirits rise. Perhaps she wouldn’t die just yet after all.

  After flying for several hours, the clouds disappeared. The mountains softened to hills. She could see a village. Hei Lei flew lower.

  “Aren’t you worried that people will see you?” she asked.

  “No, I often fly above human dwellings. I can take on the colours of my surroundings. From below, I look the same colour as the sky.”

  He had the mirage skill, just like Kai.

  Ping wondered why the black dragon visited inhabited lands. Knowing his dislike of people, she couldn’t help but think the worst.

  “I come here in spring,” Hei Lei continued. “The pomegranate blossom in this region is the sweetest.”

  Ping smiled to herself. She would never have guessed that Hei Lei had a sweet tooth.

  He landed neatly on the top of a hill.

  “I will leave you here,” he said. “There is a human nearby who will help you.”

  Ping climbed down. Just as the black dragon was flexing his wings to take off again, Ping reached out to touch his scales.

  “Hei Lei,” Ping said. “Thank you for saving me.”

  The dragon made no response.

  “Go back to the dragon haven,” she continued. “Gu Hong is old. Kai is young. The dragons need you. They need your strength, your yang.” Hei Lei didn’t say anything. “And the people of the Empire need rain. The dragons only managed to make a shower yesterday. Without you they can’t make enough clouds.”

  The black dragon took off.

  “Eight is twice-four,” she called out to him. “It’s a very inauspicious number. Nine is better.”

  • chapter twenty-four •

  GREEN

  It seemed that she’d spent a large part

  of her life walking without knowing where she was going.

  Ping looked around. She could see no sign of life or the village she’d seen from the air. She had no food, no water and thin clothes. The earth was so dry there were cracks wide enough for Ping to put her hand in them. It was chilly. She didn’t think Hei Lei had deceived her, but a dragon’s idea of ‘close’ to a village might be a lot different to a human’s. She found a branch she could use as a crutch.

  Before long, signs of human habitation did appear. There were empty fields, a dead ox. Ping’s heart soared when she saw a house, but when she got close she realised it had been abandoned.

  Ping started walking … again. It seemed that she’d spent a large part of her life walking without knowing where she was going. Her ankle hurt and she knew she wouldn’t get far on it. She felt frustration rise in her. She’d had enough of living at the whim of others—masters, emperors, dragons. She was tired of it. She wanted to be in control of her own life for once.

  She saw something on the next hill. A plume of smoke. Whether it was coming from a chimney or a grass fire, she didn’t know. Either way it was something to walk towards.

  As Ping drew closer, she could see that there was a village on the hill. If there was smoke, at least one person was still living there.

  It was a village of about 20 houses. As she walked through the open gate, several thin faces turned towards her. They weren’t welcoming. Ping could guess what they were thinking. Another mouth to feed. Raised voices drifted from a barn. Two donkeys were tied up outside. A farmer came out of the barn.

  “I don’t care how much gold you have,” he was saying. “Hay is worth more than its weight in gold. I can’t sell you any.”

  Another man followed him out of the barn. He looked as if he were about to argue, then he caught sight of Ping. Ping’s heart began thudding. It was Jun. A smile broke over his face. He was wearing a thick winter gown and he looked thinner than the last time she’d seen him. Ping suddenly wished she wasn’t wearing a threadbare jacket and trousers with the knees worn through. He ran over and hugged her.

  “Thanks to Heaven. You’re alive. I’d almost given up hope.”

  Ping clung to him and found that she couldn’t speak.

  “Are you injured?” Jun asked. “You look terrible. And where did you come from?”

  “I dropped out of the sky,” Ping said, smiling through tears. Hei Lei had known exactly where he was leaving her.

  Jun looked around.

  “Where’s Kai?” he asked.

  “I had to leave him,” she said.

  “You found the dragon haven,” Jun said.

  Ping nodded. “It wasn’t on Long Gao Yuan.”

  “Where was it?”

  “In a faraway place. I don’t know its name or where it is. I could search all my life and never find Kai again.”

  Ping hadn’t allowed herself to think about the littl
e dragon after she’d left the dragon haven. Now her unhappiness overflowed. She buried her face in Jun’s gown and cried. She sobbed until she had no strength to cry anymore. It took a long time. The villagers grew tired of watching and went back to their business. Jun stood holding her, stroking her back until all the grief had emptied from her heart.

  The barn was the only accommodation available in the village. Jun had some food supplies, a warm jacket. Ping had a little dried ginger left. A village woman gave them a kettle of boiling water to make tea.

  Ping sipped her hot drink. “What happened to you after Kai and I climbed up the Serpent’s Tail?”

  “I tried to climb the cliff myself, but I couldn’t. I had the strength, but I couldn’t fit into the narrow space between the cliff and the falls like you and Kai. I reached about two chang and then the water washed me off the wall and I fell.”

  “But you didn’t wait for us,” she said.

  “I couldn’t,” Jun replied. “A large yellow dragon picked me up in its talons, carried me for many li and dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”

  Ping smiled. “That was Tun.”

  Ping and Jun took it in turn to recount their adventures. Jun had bought the two donkeys so he could search for Ping, but it had been difficult to buy enough food to keep him and the beasts alive.

  “Everyone is hungry,” he said. “No one has any food to spare, I don’t know how we will survive.”

  Ping told him about the dragon haven—the dragons, the coloured pools, the bubbling mud, the talk of making it rain. It all sounded like a story she’d made up. They talked until after midnight.

  The sound of excited voices woke Ping the next morning.

  She went outside. The villagers were staring into the distance, shading their eyes from the early morning sun. They were pointing at the horizon. Grey clouds were huddled there. Jun came and stood next to her.

  “They’re big clouds,” Ping said. “Hei Lei must have gone back to the dragon haven and helped the others make mist.”

  “You believe that?”

  Ping nodded. “Yes.”

  The sun shone on the underside of the clouds turning them from grey to deep purple. The villagers watched, worried that the sun would frighten the clouds away. A rainbow appeared over a distant hill, its colours as pallid and translucent as dragonfly wings.

  “There must be a shower of rain over there,” Jun said.

  The band of cloud loomed closer. The colours of the rainbow grew stronger until they were as brilliant as those of an embroidered gown. They could see it clearly now—a column of steady rain falling on the next hill. The sun still shone stubbornly over the village.

  “The dragon!” one of the villagers shouted.

  Ping looked up in the sky, but there were no dragons there. The villagers ran into the barn and emerged again with a dusty bamboo shape covered with faded silk. Four men held the shape above their heads and danced around the village. The silk that covered the bamboo was tattered and faded, but it was still recognisable as a dragon.

  The clouds continued to move steadily towards them, dark and heavy, until at last they blotted out the sun. The rainbow disappeared. The villagers cheered. Lightning zigzagged across the sky. There was a crack of thunder. Large drops of rain were falling on the villagers’ upturned faces. Before long the rain was pouring from the sky. No one took shelter. They danced in the rain.

  Ping was riding on one of the donkeys. She no longer had to hide. They could travel along good roads. With the help of the donkeys, they would reach Xining before winter set in. The rain was still coming down as it had been for two days. The hills were already tinged with green. Ping wore a bamboo hat that kept her head dry, but the rest of her was soaked to the skin. She didn’t even think of complaining. Jun was leading the other donkey which carried their baggage. His hair was wet through. Water was dripping off the end of his nose.

  “You don’t think your dragon friends will get too carried away and cause a flood, do you?”

  “No. They’ll know when to stop—when the lakes are full and all the rivers are flowing again.”

  It was too late to sow grain. There would be some grass for the animals to eat, and people could plant winter vegetables, but it would still be a tough winter. Hopefully the people would survive through it. Ping was sure there would be good rains next spring.

  “So where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Kai is in his right place—in the world of dragons.” Jun said. “Now it’s time for you to take your place in the world of people.”

  The world of people frightened Ping.

  “I’ve never had a place there. I’ve been looking after dragons since I was four years old.”

  “You’ll discover how you should be spending your life,” Jun said.

  The rain slackened and then stopped. Ping got down from the donkey and dried Jun’s face with her sleeve.

  “You make it sound easy,” she said.

  “You could go to Chang’an,” he said. “The Emperor would give you an imperial post. You could live a grand life.”

  Ping shook her head. “That’s not the life for me.”

  She couldn’t imagine returning to Beibai Palace either.

  “What about your family? You could live with them.”

  “No. I’ll visit them from time to time, but there is no place for me with them.”

  “Do you like mulberries?” Jun asked.

  Ping smiled at him and nodded. He was the only friend who had ever come back to her.

  Jun put his arms around her and kissed her.

  Ping remembered the vision she’d had of her own future—a comfortable home, a life shared with someone.

  “Your mulberry trees will be flourishing in this rain,” Ping said.

  For the first time in her life she could choose what she wanted to do. Jun held out his hand and Ping took it. They walked together leading the donkeys.

  Three weeks later, Ping looked up at the night sky. There was a full moon. A dragon moon. She took Kai’s scale from her pouch. It glowed luminous green in the moonlight. As she turned it this way and that, the tip of the scale glittered red, black, yellow, green and white. She lay down to sleep, holding the scale to her breast.

  She dreamt of a dragon, a green dragon, a happy dragon. He swam in coloured pools. He learned how to hunt. The jingling sound of his laughter filled the air.

  GLOSSARY

  CHANG

  A measure of distance equal to about 2.3 metres.

  HAN DYNASTY

  A period in Chinese history when the emperors all belonged to a particular family. It lasted from 202 BCE to 220 CE.

  HAN FOOT

  A measure of length equal to about 23 centimetres.

  JADE

  A semiprecious stone also known as nephrite. Its colour varies from green to white.

  JIN

  The measure of weight for gold.

  JUJUBE

  A name for the fruit known as the Chinese date.

  LI

  A measure of distance equal to about half a kilometre.

  QI

  According to traditional Chinese beliefs, qi is the life energy that flows through us and controls the workings of the body.

  QILIN

  A mythical Chinese animal with the body of a deer, tail of an ox and a single horn.

  RED PHOENIX

  A mythical Chinese bird that looks a lot like a peacock.

  SHU

  A measure of weight equal to about half a gram.

  YI JING

  An ancient Chinese book used for divination. It is also known as the I Ching. This book is three or four thousand years old.

  PRONUNCIATION

  The Chinese words in this book are written in pinyin which is the official way of writing the sound of Chinese characters using the English alphabet. These words aren’t always pronounced the way you might think. Here is a guide to help you pronounce them correctly.

 
; Bai Xue Buy Shware (rhymes with bear)

  Beibai Bay buy

  Cai Tsai (rhymes with buy)

  Hou-yi Ho-yee

  Jiang Jee-ang (jee as in jeep)

  Ji Liao Jee Lee-ow (rhymes with now)

  Jun Jun (u as in butcher)

  Long Kai Duan Lung (u as in butcher) Kai (rhymes with buy) Dw-aan

  Lao Longzi L-ow (rhymes with now) Lung-za (u as in butcher)

  Lao Ma L-ow (rhymes with now) Ma (rhymes with far)

  Lian Lee-en

  Liu Che Lee-oo (oo as in loop) Chur (as in church)

  Lu-lin Loo (rhymes with shoe) lin

  Danzi Dan-za

  Ming Yang Sounds just like it looks

  Ping Sounds just like it looks

  Sha Shar

  Shuang Shwang (rhymes with bang)

  Tai Shan Tai (pronounced as tie) Shan

  Tinglan Ting-lan

  Tun Twun (u as in butcher)

  Xiong Nu Shee-ung Noo (u as in butcher)

  Yangxin Yang-shin

  Yi Jing Yee Jing

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have been known to throw the Yi Jing when faced with a difficult problem (using coins not yarrow stalks), though I’m pleased to say it wasn’t necessary during the writing of this book. Ping’s Yi Jing reading is based on the first chapter of that ancient Chinese book, which is more often written as I Ching and known in English as The Book of Change.

  I read several translations of this chapter, then made my own interpretation with the help of my minimal knowledge of the Chinese language and the great online dictionary and translation aids at http://www.mandarintools.com/

  Chinese, with its four tones and many homonyms (words that sound the same, but mean different things), is a fascinating language. I spent many hours (sometimes pleasurable, sometimes infuriating) using the online dictionary while working out the punning place names on Danzi’s map.