People from the household brought garlands of flowers and draped them over Wei’s body.
“Though we will miss Wei, the death of a loved one is not a time for sadness,” Tao told them. “It is a time to celebrate, because my brother’s soul is about to enter a new body. It is now in an intermediate existence between lives. It will be seven days before it moves into the next life.
“A person’s soul can be reborn into any of the thirty-one planes of existence. Wei was a good person, patient and loving. He never resented his condition and brought joy to all who knew him. He would have accumulated a great deal of good karma during his life, and I have done what I can to increase that store of karma. There is no chance that Wei will be reborn into one of the sixteen realms of hell; nor do I believe that he will be reborn as an insect or an animal. At the very least, his body will be whole in his next life, though he deserves to transcend to the higher planes and dwell in the realm of the devas. I will sit with his body for the next seven days, meditate and recite sutras to guide his soul. Then he will move one step closer to nirvana.”
Pema sat with Tao during the day, as did his sister, though they left to sleep at night. Others joined him from time to time, burning precious incense, meditating on Wei’s life, smiling as they remembered him. Though the inhabitants of the compound followed the Buddha in life, when it came to death, many of them felt safer with the old religion. They wept and brought offerings of food for his afterlife and prayed to heaven so that he would not return to the world as a hungry ghost.
Tao fasted and murmured sutras until he was hoarse. He only slept for an hour at a time when he could no longer sit up. Kai kept the vigil with him, silent and in his true shape. The dragon ate no meat. After three days, Pema brought food to Tao.
“You must eat something. There’s no point in making yourself ill. Wei wouldn’t want that.”
Tao ate a few spoonfuls of cooked grain.
After seven days, Tao rose. He was too weak to carry his brother’s body himself, but there were many who were willing to do the job. Wei’s body was carried out into a fallow field where a camphor wood pyre had been prepared. Mrs Huan, still torn between the old and the new religion, wouldn’t set light to the pyre herself. Tao was surprised when his father stepped forwards and touched the torch to the wood. Pema stood on one side of Tao and took his hand. Kai stood on his other side and Tao leaned on his scaly shoulder for support. The camphor wood burned and the fragrant smoke rose, purifying the air and pleasing the devas hovering invisible above them.
The monks chanted sutras and struck bells. The bells were small and the breeze carried away the thin, high notes they produced, but the ringing sound grew louder in Tao’s ears. He thought he was about to faint from exhaustion, but the ringing faded and he heard the sound of a baby crying. He looked around. No one had brought a child to the funeral. He closed his eyes and the ringing echoed in his mind. The baby howled at the top of its lungs, then stopped suddenly. He heard the softest sound of a mother’s lips on the baby’s damp hair. He heard a man’s voice. “It’s a boy! Look at him kick!”
Tao smiled. That used up the last shu of his strength. He felt himself tip into unconsciousness.
Chapter Thirty-Three
CHANGE
The house felt empty without Wei. He had been the centre of the household, and without his presence things changed and rearranged. It took Tao another week to regain his strength and by that time, the house and its occupants had altered completely. Mrs Huan spent many hours sitting in Wei’s room, in quiet contemplation of no one knew what. She had lost all interest in managing the farm and leading those who lived in the compound. Though she no longer blamed Tao for Wei’s death, she didn’t make any attempt to be closer to him. Since she wasn’t ordering people around, no one knew what to do. A family who had moved into the compound two years earlier approached Mr Huan with an offer of marriage between their only son and Meiling. Mr Huan would not agree unless Meiling was happy with the match, but she had no objections and the marriage took place within days.
Everyone in the compound became accustomed to seeing a dragon among them, so Kai was able to stay in his true shape all the time. He had become a favourite playmate of the children, who enjoyed going for rides on his back or playing pitch ball with him. Those who worked in the fields also called on him to help move heavy rocks or fallen trees.
Perhaps the greatest change had come over Mr Huan. He took over the management of the compound, and one of his first decisions was to move everyone south to the city of Jiankang, where many of the Huaxia had gone.
“Are you sure moving to Jiankang is the right thing to do, Father?” Tao asked.
“There is no war there,” Mr Huan said. “People live in peace. They are interested in artistic pursuits. They write poetry and discuss philosophy. The choice is easy.”
The household was being packed up ready for the journey. Wei’s room was the only thing that remained the same. Mrs Huan wouldn’t allow anyone to touch it.
Tao found Kai and Pema sitting in the peony pavilion watching the fish swim back and forth.
“It’s time for me to leave this place,” Tao said. “Since the sutras first came to me in Luoyang, I have had a task to fulfill – to rescue them from the chaos that is in the world, and take them somewhere for safekeeping. I have not achieved that yet. My path lies east. I must return to Yinmi with the sutras.”
“What about you, Kai?” Pema asked.
“My path is not as clear, but I will travel with Tao for a while yet.”
Some of the compound children came to fetch Kai, eager for a game of pitch ball. Tao found himself alone with Pema. Though she had only known Wei for a short time, she had also changed since his death. She had lost her hardness and had learned to enjoy the company of others.
“And you, Pema? Will you travel with us for a while longer?”
“No,” she said.
Tao couldn’t prevent disappointment showing on his face.
“Will you go south with my family?”
She shook her head sadly. “Your father has told me I’m welcome to travel with them, to be part of their new household in Jiankang. But I’m not going.”
People arriving from Luoyang had brought news that Shi Le had survived the attack on him, and though he now insisted on being carried everywhere in a sedan chair and had left all military matters in the hands of his nephew, it seemed he would live. Tao wondered if Pema was planning to try again to kill Shi Le.
She could read his face as easily as Tao could read a sutra. “Don’t worry. I’m no longer seeking revenge. It’s time for me to think about life, not death.”
“Where will you go?”
“Your road leads east, mine leads west. I am going to Chengdu, which is the city of the Di. I want to be with my own people.”
“Chengdu is far away, more than two thousand li. It’s too dangerous for you to go so far alone.”
“A family from the compound have chosen to settle in Chang’an. I will go with them.”
“But Chengdu is much further west than Chang’an.”
“Once I get to that city, I will look for other travellers who are going in the direction of Chengdu. I won’t travel alone, I promise.”
Pema took Tao’s hand. She was wearing one of Meiling’s gowns and her hair was tied in a single braid that fell over her shoulder. Her smiling face was lovely. The scar left by the sword stroke only seemed to enhance her beauty. Though he could not say it aloud, Tao no longer denied his feelings for her. He was breaking the third precept, but pretending it was otherwise had proved pointless. It was there in his heart.
“I had hoped I would see you from time to time,” Tao said.
“Whether you return to your monastery or go with Kai, your future doesn’t include me,” Pema said. “Thanks to you, I’ve let go of the bitterness and hatred inside me. I’m ready to start a new life.”
“What did I have to do with it?”
“If it wasn’t f
or you and Kai, I would be dead. My time with you has taught me to value life.”
The next morning, Pema was at the gates just before dawn with the family travelling to Chang’an. They had a small cart piled with their possessions hitched to an ox. Tao and Kai were there to say goodbye to her.
“You will be able to find my family in Jiankang, if you don’t like it in Chengdu,” Tao said.
The family was eager to start the journey. The father flicked the rump of the ox. The party set off.
Pema leaned forward took Tao’s hands and kissed him on the cheek.
“Goodbye, Tao.”
She hurried to catch up with the others.
Chapter Thirty-Four
THE COLOUR OF BLOOD
The summer rains were a memory, and there was a chill in the air. Tao and Kai retraced their steps, skirting around the city’s north, between its crumbling walls and the Mang Shan hills. They had started before sunrise so that they could get clear of Luoyang before daylight. Tao had said goodbye to his family. Mr Huan had insisted on giving Tao three gold coins.
It was a slow journey because Tao was still limping, but just after dawn Luoyang was behind them at last. Kai was happy to trail along with Tao, playing guessing games, challenging Tao to beat him at everything from throwing stones to farting, and, of course, riddles.
They had almost reached the bridge across the Luo River and Tao was anxious to get to the other side, but Kai was hungry again and had gone looking for food. Tao looked towards Song Shan. The rains might have ceased on the plain, but heavy clouds still obscured the mountain peaks. Tao couldn’t see the crease in the rocky slopes where Yinmi Monastery was nestled.
Kai returned, very pleased with himself, because he had caught two swallows. He also had a taro root for Tao. Kai scanned the horizon in all directions. Tao made him do it three times before he was convinced that there were no nomads within several li and it was safe to light a small cooking fire. Fire lighting was one skill Tao had acquired since he had left Yinmi; Pema had taught him. Kai’s idea of cooking was to sear the birds on the flames and eat them half raw. It took Tao’s taro root longer to cook. Kai went off in search of worms.
Tao was supposed to be meditating, but he had almost nodded off when a terrible sound broke the peace. It was a dragon cry, a terrible clashing metal sound, empty and hollow. It was the sound Tao had heard Kai make when he was in despair. Except this time it wasn’t Kai. A dragon was flapping towards him in the sky. It was Sha.
She didn’t look as formidable as she had that first time Tao had seen her in the night sky above Luoyang. Then, she had been in full battle frenzy, her eyes blazing red, power and aggression pulsing from her. Now she looked weary, like a huge bird coming to the end of a migratory flight of many thousands of li. Her wings seemed to be struggling to keep her in the air. Something was dangling from her left front paw. It looked as if he had missed undoing one of the shackles. As Sha got closer, he could see that she was holding one of the chains in her paw.
The dragon’s scales were dull yellow and so were her eyes. She was glaring straight at Tao. The wounds around her ankles were healing. It was Tao she had to thank for that, and yet she still wanted to recapture him – either to keep him prisoner, or to kill him for daring to escape from her. Tao scanned the flat plain looking for somewhere to hide. The long grass could conceal him from human eyes, but dragon eyes would penetrate it as easily as gauze. There was nowhere to hide, and no point in running either. Even in her fatigued state, Sha would catch up with him before he had hobbled six paces. He closed his eyes, waiting to be snatched up in her talons.
There was another dragon sound – a deep rumble of anger. Kai had seen Sha, of course, and he was leaping through the grass to protect Tao. Sha glided over the top of Tao as if he were as insignificant as a mouse. It was not him she had come for. Her eyes were now firmly on Kai.
Sha dived at him, using the chain dangling from her paw as a weapon, whipping it around Kai’s head. Kai leaped up, but Sha changed direction before he could hit her with his tail. Even though she was weary, her wings gave her the advantage. When Kai stood still to face her, she flew at him, veering away at the last moment. She wouldn’t confront him in a face-to-face fight. She never got close enough for him to launch an attack. Tao could feel Kai’s anger growing as he zigzagged along the ground trying to engage with her. She flew around behind him just as she had the last time they fought and Kai was forced to turn in circles to keep her in sight.
Kai was a competitive dragon. He liked to win. But he also liked a fair fight, using just his natural weapons and skills, no trickery. This evasion made him angry. Sha knew exactly what she was doing. She would have watched him train when he was young. She knew that he fought more effectively when he was calm and his tactics were calculated with a cool head. When he was angry, he lashed out instinctively, without a plan. She dived down on Kai again and again. With every pass she inflicted injury. She stabbed him with her horns, whipped him with the chain, waited until he reared up and then raked her talons across his chest. At one stage, she anticipated that he was going to flick his tail and she caught the tip of it in her talons, lifted him into the air and then dropped him. He fell on his back, scrambling to get to his feet like an overturned beetle, his vulnerable belly exposed. Sha had the chance to win the fight, to kill Kai, yet she didn’t take advantage of his helplessness. She circled around while he flipped himself onto his feet again. Now Kai was furious.
Tao couldn’t understand Sha’s tactics. She wasn’t out to kill Kai; it was as if she were trying to goad him into anger. If that was her plan, she was succeeding. Tao had never seen Kai so angry. Sha whacked him with her tail and knocked him over again. When Kai got to his feet, his eyes had changed. They were no longer brown; instead they were a deep red, the colour of cinnabar, not because of any potion, but from natural, lethal aggression. Though no words formed in Tao’s head, he could feel the change in Kai’s mood. Before, Kai had felt sorry for Sha, he had understood her anger and distress. Now he wanted to kill her. He leaped up as she passed over him and this time he landed a blow with his tail. Sha’s flight faltered, but she managed to right herself and flap out of his reach. She flew at Kai again, and the dragons fought tooth and talon, horn and tail. Tao watched, unable to take his eyes off the terrible sight of the two dragons injuring each other.
Sha was backing away from Kai, towards the river. Tao could feel Kai’s malicious pleasure that she was doing what he wanted, falling into his trap, allowing him to lure her to the water, where he would be superior. Tao couldn’t understand why Sha didn’t use her main advantage – her wings – and just fly away.
The river was swollen and flowing fast. Kai dived in. If the air was Sha’s element, water was Kai’s. The current was strong, but Kai’s legs were stronger. He had walked thousands of li since he’d left the dragon haven. In the water, he was as fast and as graceful as Sha was in the air. He used the current of the river the way a dragon on the wing used air currents, allowing it to carry him along or swimming strongly against it, whichever suited his needs. He used his paws to stroke through the water, but it was his tail that gave him the strength to swim against the river. He dived beneath the fast-flowing water, disappearing for minutes at a time, while Sha circled above, waiting for him to reappear. When he did, it was never where she expected, and he could leap so high out of the water, he could nip her heels or the tip of her tail.
The yellow dragon was beginning to tire. She circled again, waiting for Kai to re-emerge. She flew lower, trying to see him beneath the surface. The chain she held trailed in the water. A green paw reached up and grabbed the chain. Kai yanked it hard, and Sha twisted in the air. Thrown off balance, one wing dipped into the water. Kai grabbed that as well. Sha didn’t struggle as he pulled her into the river. The sickly yellow cast in Sha’s eyes was fading, but they weren’t turning red. Her eyes were returning to their natural soft brown. Just before she went under, she made a faint wind-chime sound, the
sound dragons make when they are happy.
Tao’s heart went cold as the truth hit him. Sha hadn’t fallen into Kai’s trap; it was Kai who had fallen into hers. She had led him to the river, fully aware that he would be the one with the advantage there. She would have witnessed the fight at the dragon haven, when Kai, no more than a baby, had beaten Hei Lei in a deep pool. This was what Sha wanted. She wanted Kai to beat her. She wanted to die.
In the water, Kai had the upper paw for the first time. He had told Tao that the different coloured dragons had their own set of skills. Yellow dragons couldn’t shape-change, they could only make themselves appear larger or smaller. They could swim, but nothing more than a sedate paddling like a dog, and only in still waters. Sha’s great head surfaced and she gasped in air. Though her brain had decided she wanted to die, her natural survival instinct was still intact. In the unfamiliar water, she was panicking.
Kai pulled her under again before she had a chance to get a decent lungful of air. He moved around her as she floundered in the fast-flowing river, nipping her with his teeth, ripping her with his talons, swimming beneath her and pulling her under by her tail. She was fast running out of strength. Kai wasn’t even beginning to tire. He leaped out of the water with a triumphant roar. He hung in the air above the river like a flying fish, for what seemed like an impossible length of time. His scales had changed. The tips were shimmering in the sunlight. They were no longer just green. They shone with all the five colours – red, yellow, green, black and white. His eyes were deep red and hard as polished gems. He looked magnificent, but deadly.
Kai dived into the water again landing on top of Sha, pushing her head down, holding her under as she struggled and gulped in water in her panic. Tao held his breath, remembering his own terrifying experience underwater, the awful sensation of trying to draw breath and breathing in water instead. Kai had told Tao that dragons slept underwater in winter, that they couldn’t drown, but Kai had Sha in his talons, ready to rip her apart. Tao shuddered as blank red eyes met his.
Dragonkeeper 4: Blood Brothers Page 22
