Tao heard a voice in his head. “I leave you alone for less than a day and look what a mess you have gotten yourself into!”
Tao let out a whoop. “Pema, it’s Kai. He’s come to rescue us!”
She didn’t reply.
The spectators weren’t sure what was happening, but they were enjoying the display, thinking it was part of the entertainment. The nomads had all turned their attention and their weapons on their new opponent, who was in the snake shape again. Tao turned to Pema. An arrow had pierced her arm. Her arms and legs were covered with bleeding wounds. Her head hung motionless.
Tao’s brain was telling him he should be happy that Pema was about to enter a new life, but his heart, already pounding from fear and exertion, beat even faster. He didn’t want her to die.
He took her head in his hands. “Pema,” he whispered.
Her eyes opened. Tao picked up an abandoned sword and cut her bonds. He watched as she grabbed hold of the arrow in her arm, took a deep breath and pulled it out making no more than a faint groan.
Tao wanted to say much more, but it wasn’t possible. Kai was now in the shape of a nomad. Tao recognised him by his greenish skin and wild dragonish hair, but the other nomads were looking around for their unearthly opponent, swiping their swords at thin air.
A nomad with an axe was still trying to add to his score by wounding Pema. Tao stuck out his foot and tripped him up. Pema stood on the man’s wrist and pulled the axe from his grip.
More nomads arrived and Pema lashed out at them with the axe. Tao fended off as many blows as he could. Together, they fought off six or more nomads. Just as they were about to be overwhelmed, Kai appeared at their side. He was in his true shape, his green scales flashing in the sunlight. His tail took care of the others.
Tao knew this might be his last chance to speak to the dragon, and there was so much he wanted to say. All he could see was a patch of shimmering earth, which was Kai using his mirage skill to disguise himself and Pema.
“Another arrow!” Kai’s voice said.
Tao dodged the arrow. When he turned back, he couldn’t see the shimmering earth. Kai and Pema had escaped.
The nomads who Kai had wounded were limping back to the starting line. Only two or three diligent horsemen were still interested in wounding Tao. They surrounded him, their lances at the ready. Tao was exhausted. He let his staff drop to the ground and raised his hands in surrender. A last arrow flew through the air. Tao tried to sidestep it, but his legs were weary and slow. The arrow went into his calf. The pain took Tao’s breath away. He stumbled and fell to the ground. He thought he was going to pass out.
The clamour was starting to die down. The spectators were all turned towards Jilong, waiting to hear who would be declared the winner. Then a rumbling roar echoed out. It was the yellow dragon, Sha, her eyes blazing red. She flew out over the temple walls, broken chains trailing from each ankle. The crowd cheered, thinking there was more entertainment to come. Then they scattered, screaming, as the dragon swooped low through the crowd. The yellow dragon raked her talons through the flesh of anyone unfortunate enough to be within her reach, flicking her paws so the chains whipped people beneath her. Nomads ran in all directions as she picked up two people in her talons, flew higher and dropped them mercilessly. Those contestants who weren’t standing staring at the dragon were running for their lives with the spectators, but Tao knew Sha was looking for him. He had to escape before she saw him. He tried to pull the arrow out of his leg. He felt the dragon’s hatred and anger turn on him. He was too late. Sha’s dragon eyes had found him. Her wings stretched back. She was flying straight at him like a huge arrowhead, everyone else forgotten.
The yellow dragon was so close, Tao could see saliva dripping from her open jaws. He remembered Pema’s bravery as she had wrenched the arrow from her arm. He grasped the arrow in his leg and pulled it out. He had never experienced such pain. His head spun and he couldn’t get to his feet. Sha’s teeth were just inches away from him when something distracted her. Kai had returned.
Sha swerved away from Tao and turned her blazing eyes on Kai. If there was any creature in the world she hated more than Tao, it was the green dragon. She flew at Kai, lowering her head to gore him with her iron-tipped horns. That meant she had to take her eyes off him. At the last second Kai leaped almost a chang into the air twisted his body and flicked his tail. He hit Sha in the chest and she fell to the ground, winded. Kai didn’t take advantage of the situation. He stood and waited for Sha to get to her feet, which seemed to infuriate her even more. The two dragons faced each other. Kai was bigger, but Sha had wings. They paced around each other. The crowd had already forgotten about Sha’s deadly attacks and crept closer to get a glimpse of this rare sight. Tao could hear some of them making wagers on which dragon would win. Jilong was standing on the dais, waiting for his men to deal with Kai and Tao.
The yellow dragon didn’t wait long before she flapped her wings and launched herself at Kai. She hovered above him just out of his reach before she dived and bit him on the neck. Without wings, Kai was at a disadvantage. A dragon’s body was designed for flight, its head at an angle more suited to looking down at an enemy from the air than up at it from below. Sha could easily fly behind Kai, out of his line of sight, and he had to turn constantly to keep her in view.
Sha circled wider and then suddenly flew at Kai low to the ground, gathering speed. The crowd gasped, as it seemed certain that Sha would smash into Kai, but at the last possible moment Kai leaped aside. Sha grazed her belly on the ground and nearly crash-landed, but she managed to regain her control, turn back and fly at Kai again.
Tao couldn’t just hear Kai’s words in his head, he could feel the dragon’s emotions as well. They swirled inside him, along with his own intense feelings. He staggered and almost fell, so overwhelming were they. Kai felt deep guilt for Sha’s condition. He was filled with sadness and shame. He didn’t want to wound her. Instead, he used his mirage skill to make himself seem to disappear. The crowd gasped. Sha was getting more and more furious as Kai shape-changed into a bush behind her. He kept disappearing and reappearing, changing into a horse, a rock, trying to confuse Sha. The crowd, though nauseated by the shape-changing, still applauded as if they were watching an entertainment troop in a marketplace. This only infuriated Sha more. Kai returned to his own shape, taunting her by jumping up and down, waggling his head and making rude sounds with his lips. The crowd cheered again. Sha flew at Kai, who stood waiting for her.
“You cannot beat me, Sha,” Tao heard him say. “Even without wings, I can defeat you. I am the true leader of our cluster.” There was pride in his voice.
Sha’s eyes were now a dull red. The effects of the tigers’ blood were wearing off, her rage was dying. She changed the direction of her flight. Kai thought she was conceding defeat. He turned to the crowd, stretched himself to his full height, threw back his head and shook his mane. But as Sha’s rage diminished, her natural cunning took over. There was a glint of defiance in her eyes. She flew straight at Tao. If she couldn’t harm Kai directly, she planned to do it indirectly. Tao tried to run, but the pain in his leg was too great. The ring of spectators around them had tightened. Tao had no way of escape. He looked around desperately for his staff, but couldn’t find it.
Kai was showing off his skills to the spectators, enjoying their applause. Tao called out to him. Not with his voice – he wouldn’t have heard – but with his mind. Kai turned in time to see Sha reach down and grab Tao with her forepaws. She let her talons dig through his vest, deep into his flesh. The yellow dragon roared with triumph and soared into the air, making one last circle with Tao dangling, in speechless terror, like a mouse caught by a hawk.
Jilong had gained control over his scattered men and gathered them into fighting formation. He was furious, shouting orders to the bowmen to shoot down the yellow dragon. The archers fired at Sha. Their arrows were no longer flying in gentle arcs meant only to wound. They streaked swift and straigh
t, aimed to kill. Most bounced off her scales. A single arrow dug into the underside of one of Sha’s hind legs, where there were no hard scales to protect her. She cried out in pain and swerved away out of range of the arrows. She kept going, flying low over the dais.
Tao, still clutched in her talons, looked down at the upturned faces. Fo Tu Deng was nowhere to be seen. He would have run to safety long ago. A woman was staring up at him. It was his mother. He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he could tell from the way she was standing with her hands on her hips, that she was more angry with him than concerned for his safety.
Tao had seen Sha drop her helpless victims while in flight. He guessed that was his fate, though for him she would surely fly to a great height. The terror he felt gave him strength and courage. He reached around and grabbed the chain dangling from her ankle. He wrapped it around his arm just as she released her grip on him, and the chain stopped him from falling. Sha shook her paw furiously, shrieking with pain and anger. Tao didn’t let go. With his other hand he grasped her leg, clutching the coarse brown hair that grew behind her knee. She swooped and swerved, but Tao clung on. He could see the earth below, the temple shrunk to the size of a cart, people no bigger than ants. Sha turned in a somersault. Tao clung on with aching arms, knowing he couldn’t hold on much longer. He looked below for Kai and Pema. They were nowhere in sight. He hoped they had escaped to safety.
Tao lost his grip. The sky was below and so was the upside-down dragon. He bounced against her belly. A good Buddhist would have been preparing for his next life, but Tao wasn’t planning on dying, not any more. People in this life needed him – dragons too. He reached out. All he could grasp was a handful of the dragon’s beard. Sha shook her head as she righted herself. Tao swung out and dug his fingers into her mane, coiling the hair around his hands. Then he managed to get astride her neck. She bucked and twisted like a wild horse, but her strength was waning. Tao hung on. He had faced death and chosen life.
The dragon flew south, following the course of a river for twenty li or more before veering toward a range of sandy cliffs that rose up from the banks of the river. She glided down and Tao could see that she was heading for a cave high in the cliffs. She lowered her head as she glided in to land in the mouth of the cave. Tao’s energy was sapped, his reactions slow. He didn’t duck in time and the edge of the cave whacked him on the forehead.
Chapter Twenty-Six
PAIN AND HUNGER
When Tao woke he found himself in darkness, sprawled on a pile of dirty straw. There was an acrid smell that was familiar to him. His head was fuzzy. It took him a while to remember what it was that smelled like that. It was dragon urine. Kai had always been careful to pee at a distance from him, but Tao had still got a whiff of it if he happened to be upwind. It smelled like rotten eggs and dead fish. It was unpleasant enough when it was fresh. This was definitely not fresh. At first he thought he was in a windowless room. When he raised himself on an elbow, he could see that in one direction the darkness was sprinkled with stars. A faint breeze brought a current of fresh air carrying the scent of osmanthus blossom. He could hear loud breathing. That was something else he was familiar with – the sound of a dragon sleeping. He was in a dragon’s nest.
Tao tried to stand but his head spun, his ears rang and silver sparks danced in front of his eyes. He sat down again and hung his head between his knees. The terrifying journey came back to him – nothing like the dragon flight he had longed for. He realised, with a sinking heart, that the dragon sleeping nearby wasn’t Kai. Then he glimpsed the stars again and remembered where he was – in a cave high on a cliff. He was glad he hadn’t been able to walk easily or he could have stumbled out of the cave and plunged to his death. Now that he was fully awake, he was aware of his wounds. He was sore all over. He didn’t know how many cuts he had sustained on his body, how much of his lifeblood he had lost. The arrow that had wounded his arm had only grazed him. The wound in his leg was much worse. He could feel dirt and grit stuck to the dried blood. He was thirstier than he had ever been in his life, but there was no point in his crawling around in the dark looking for water; he would only risk falling to his death. He thought of Pema, hoping she had survived, that his blundering attempt to save her had succeeded, that she hadn’t died of her wounds. Sleep pulled him back again.
It was full daylight the next time Tao woke. Sha was still sleeping. She was curled up, her head tucked beneath a wing. He crawled to the mouth of the cave. There was a sheer drop of about thirty chang down to a river, on the other side of which lay the ruins of an abandoned village and neglected fields. He could watch for people passing below and call to them for help, but there was no sign of recent human activity anywhere in the landscape around him. And even if he was lucky and someone heard him, what could they do? There was no way down that he could see.
Tao was hot and sweating. It was the first time he’d been able to examine his wounds in the daylight. His arms were covered with cuts, more than a dozen of them. The nomads had followed their instructions well. The cuts weren’t deep enough to kill, but they were still bleeding. The arrow wound in his leg looked swollen and ugly. It was hot to touch. He still had the wolf tooth on a thong around his neck. He pierced the wound with its point and foul yellow-green fluid oozed out. It hurt so much, he thought he would pass out.
He searched the cave to see if there was a way out. There were animal bones lying around, some half-eaten, and the smell of decaying meat added to the stench. Unpleasant smells were the least of Tao’s worries. Among the gnawed animal bones, he thought he recognised the remains of a human body. There didn’t seem to be any way out of the cave except by flight.
Sha started to shiver and her eyes opened slowly. They were no longer red; instead they were the colour of a yellowing bruise. The sight of Tao stirred no anger or interest in her. Her great body shuddered with sickness. She turned over and slept again.
Tao lay unable to move, slipping in and out of sleep. He lost track of time. He was afraid that he would die – from hunger, thirst or the poison in his festering wounds. Sooner or later he would allow himself to be pulled back into the painless peace of sleep from which he would not wake. He couldn’t wait for someone to rescue him. No one knew where he was, and who would take the trouble to search for him? Kai might, but even a dragon couldn’t follow the trail of another dragon in flight. There would be no trace of its passing.
There was only one creature who could help Tao escape and that was Sha. But why would she? Tao had smashed the jar of tigers’ blood that she had come to depend on. He was also the friend of Kai, who was her enemy. Still, the sick dragon was his only hope.
Tao didn’t know what she planned to do with him. Sha was a wild dragon, not one who had had a dragonkeeper like Kai. She may have snatched him away with the intention of him being her next meal. He didn’t think she understood any human language. Once, in the Song Shan Mountains, an angry bear had confronted him. It could easily have killed him, but he had spoken gently to the beast and, even though it couldn’t understand his words, he had managed to calm it. He hoped he could do that with Sha and she would let him go. If not, he would have to find a way to get down from the cave. First he needed to attend to his wounds and regain his strength. He would have to beg the dragon to get him food. He waited for what seemed hours, but Sha showed no sign of waking. He nudged her with his foot. She still didn’t stir. He picked up a bone and poked her hard with it.
“Sha,” he said.
The dragon’s eyes opened. There was a glint of recognition. She knew her name in the language of the Huaxia at least. “I know you are angry with me for breaking the vat of tigers’ blood. But I am not your enemy. Your body craves the blood. You must resist it. You must get back to your natural state.”
Though Sha showed no sign of understanding anything Tao had said, he thought that she was listening to his soothing voice.
“Kai has told me about you.” At the mention of Kai’s name, the dragon�
�s rumbling growl echoed around the small cave. “He told me that you are a healer. That’s all I wanted to do when I smashed the jar: to cure you of this craving for tigers’ blood, so that you can return to your cluster, who must miss your healing skills.”
Sha stopped growling. Tao remembered what Kai had said about her dragon mate abandoning her.
“I am only a novice monk. I don’t know much about the ways of the world. In fact, I have learned more in the last few weeks than in my whole life before. But I have experienced what it is like to feel love for someone.”
It was a relief to say the words aloud. He wished he’d told Pema when he’d had the chance, instead of confessing his feelings to a dragon who didn’t understand a word he was saying.
“It’s a powerful feeling. It makes you do things you had no idea you were capable of. And I know that you have been betrayed.”
The circumstances of that betrayal weren’t clear to him; he had been too busy with his own hurt feelings to find out. “I have lost nothing, because I never had the love of anyone to lose. Not that kind of love.”
As he had hoped, his words calmed Sha. Her head dropped and she slept again. At least she wasn’t trying to kill him. That was an important step in his survival plan.
He had calmed himself as well as the dragon; whatever forces flowed through his body when he was fighting and afraid had stopped. His strength had diminished. He could hardly believe he had faced so many nomads … and survived. He was weary, but if he allowed himself to sleep, he might never wake up again. Perhaps it didn’t matter. He hoped Pema had managed to escape, and Kai too. Perhaps they had escaped together. He had done all he could.
Dragonkeeper 4: Blood Brothers Page 18
