I spread my arms wide, sweeping at the air around me, creating a sphere, larger than any I had ever made. Immediately, the wind stopped as I silenced its sickening howls. The only sounds that remained were the desperate creaks and groans of a mutilated ship, stretched and pulled to its absolute limits. With every bit of skill I could muster, Kassashimei and I pushed away the wind and diverted the writhing currents.
Our barrier grew larger and larger, and the waves began to give way. Already I was tired and I suspected that Kassashimei felt the same.
"Kass, please, whatever I do next, don't hesitate," I pleaded. She did not answer, but I trusted that she must have understood.
My motions become more elaborate as I fought against the forces that dared to tear us apart. We were bombarded by all sorts of things: wood, metal, the claw-like fingers of an angry ether; all of them scraping and gnawing at our barrier, causing it to dent and become misshapen.
In some places, cracks began to form, causing a sharp pain in my body. It was not long before I felt a weakness in my arms and legs, as if a weight had been tied to my limbs. In my final moments, I drew my arms in as if cradling something against my chest. I glanced at Kassashimei one more time, and she gazed back at me, content, as if she had been waiting for this moment all along.
My arms lashed out, and with one great push, a sound like thunder pierced the air. The sphere shattered, creating an enormous pocket of etherless sky. With nothing to keep it afloat, the vessel started to fall.
For a moment, there was an elegant silence, like nothing had happened at all. Pieces of glass and wood slowly began to lift from the floor. Kassashimei held on to a length of railing and reached out for me. She shouted, but I did not hear a single word.
And then the air rushed back to fill the void.
A maddening chaos of crashing and shaking was all I saw as what was left of the room began to cave in on itself. Kassashimei kept her arm reaching for me.
“Stay where you are,” I said. “I’m not finished yet.”
She gave a concerned nod as she finally revealed how scared she truly was, but her noble gaze refused to flinch.
I went back into my stances, all the while trying desperately to keep my balance as the floor shook and splintered beneath my feet. Fighting against every doubt, every feeling of hopelessness, Kassashimei and I returned the ether's flow back into the empty void, guiding the ship as it fell back to the awaiting ocean below.
Like a mighty hand from the heavens, Kassashimei and I guided an ethereal wave as it reached underneath the hull and cradled the vessel it in its grasp. The bow rose suddenly as our descent began to slow.
Still, as vigilant as I was, we were not falling as gently as I had hoped.
Then, with little warning , the ocean came upon us and with a great crash as the ship tore into its watery face. For a moment, the bulbous vessel floundered like a great whale, caught in the arms of some hungry beast, then after a time, floated idly; bobbing, groaning and creaking as it whimpered from its wounds.
Chapter 12
The back of the tea house had a large balcony with steps, leading down to a courtyard, covered with small gardens and tall, wooden walls. I was lying prone on the balcony steps, just as Madame Quoli had ordered. Over and over, she struck me on the back with a large piece of bamboo. With each strike, I let out a sickly shriek, clamping my jaw as tight as I could as I tried to muffle my shameful cries. After a time, the stinging sensation on my back grew unbearably hot, as if someone had propped a flame next to my skin.
Much to my surprise, I started sobbing, begging for Quoli to stop. When I looked up at her, she pressed her foot against my head and demanded I keep quiet. She had been patiently waiting for this moment the entirety of the trip. The disrespect I caused her during the voyage had made her angrier than I had ever seen.
Except for some injuries and broken bones, I had saved everyone on the ship. The captain was not impressed, however, and condemned me for my actions. Everything I had done was without his permission. Secretly, both the Boar and the Old Man praised me. Han and Kidou seemed all the more convinced of my talents, as they were among the few witnesses that had seen the passing of my abilities first-hand. But like a magnificent tiger prowling in the tall grass, everything that I had done went mostly unnoticed. The secret veil of my life made sure that most of the ship's crew would never know of the things I had done. Even Han and Kiddou were sworn to keep my skills a secret from the rest of my former classmates.
And I knew that even if Quoli knew of my deeds, she would not have cared. I had insulted her, wounded her pride and that was all that mattered.
The beatings stopped when Miss Nishio came out onto the balcony. She looked down at my prone form and gave a heaving sigh.
"The captain has billed me for half of the ship repairs," she said. "Where do you suppose that money is going to come from? Well?"
I did not even think of answering her as I remained wallowed in my tears.
"You will be in debt for a very long time," she continued. "You are lucky that the Old Man has recently agreed to grant you a full license. You are now officially a chienkuu ko to this Tea House, You had better start earning me money, before you make every one of us end up on the streets."
As I squirmed painfully on the floor, listening to her ungratified words, it seemed strange that such an important moment was simply tossed to me like an object that held little value.
But even so, I was finally a chienkuu ko, a child of the sky. How I wanted to be proud, to feel like I had climbed a great mountain, but my stubborn tears and the upset look on both Quoli's and Nishio's faces kept me from feeling so.
Later that day, I watched in earnest from the empty main dining room on the first floor as Meng washed the bruises on my back, wondering when Kassashimei would show herself. Earlier, Quoli had punished her as well, though not as harshly as she had done to me. Instead, she made her hold her arms out and struck them with a swatting stick. Afterwards, she ran to her room, nursing the painful marks on her skin. Even though Meng did not care much for her, she bandaged her wounds out of sympathy. Since then I had not seen her leave her room. I suppose she did not want me to see her cry.
Peering from a corner at the top of the stairs along the second floor, I saw Lai, watching me with a suspicious gaze. I suppose he knew now that I was as much of an equal in this house as he was. He half-smiled in his timid attempt to welcome me, but he had such a look of worry about him, that I could not help but be concerned. There were still tears coming from my eyes, so I hurriedly rubbed them dry and tried to look as prideful and presentable to him as I could.
A few days later, we were visited by a certain compelling stranger. It was early in the morning before the tea house opened when we heard the loud knocking at the front entrance.
I watched from the stairs as Meng dutifully answered. As she slid the door open, she uttered a small gasp. It was a man dressed in a simple, but brightly colored traditional robe. The bun in his hair and the way his clothes were decorated reminded me of the old theatre plays I had once seen that depicted characters from the old imperial era of warlords and medieval castles. He was a very large man that towered easily over Meng and his shoulders seemed as long as my legs. But what caught my attention the most were the two curved swords sheathed menacingly at his side. One was shorter than the other and he gripped both their hilts like a mother keeping her unruly children at bay.
He handed her a folded piece of paper, which she read carefully, then she gave a surprised look and quickly went up the stairs, pushing her way past me. After a short time had passed, both she and Miss Nishio hurried down. Both of them glanced at me with an air of uncertainty as they went by. Finally, Miss Nishio greeted the visitor and invited him inside, regarding him with the utmost respect and earnest. They sat down at one of the many tables in the main room, where the house musicians were busy practicing and tuning their instruments. Kassashimei casually came up to me from behind and bluntly prodded my side.
"What are you looking at?" Kassashimei asked.
"We have a visitor," I answered quietly. “Someone I've never seen before."
She followed my gaze to the man sitting at the table.
"We have a giant in our tea house," she teased. "Or maybe he’s a demon. No, probably more like an ogre."
"He's not an ogre, or a giant. I think he's some sort of warrior."
Miss Nishio must have realized our presence, because she said, "Terr, Kassashimei, come over here; and you‘d best behave yourselves."
We did as she instructed and scurried quickly to the table. The man got up, giving only a brief, half-hearted glance at my shyo mah, then drew a long, hard stare in my direction. I was certain that he was compelled by the color of my eyes.
"Don't be rude children, bow."
I felt myself growing anxious as I lowered my head, not knowing what to make of the strange man before me.
"The Old Man seems to have high expectations for the both of you," Miss Nishio said. "It seems he has sent a guardian, and a very prestigious one at that."
The thought had not even occurred to me as to whether or not Kassashimei and I were worthy enough to have a guardian. During the old era, chienkuu ko were a prized commodity amongst the tea houses. So much so, that they were often victims to kidnappings. Warriors were often hired to protect them. But now, such occurrences were so rare, that guardians became nothing more than a form of decoration, a symbol to enhance the prestige and worth of the children they escorted. Because of the large amount of money it typically cost to hire them, most children had no guardian at all, but the ones that did often curried the most favor and the highest paying employment among the top ranking people in society.
"My name is Ren Tzu," the warrior said in a strong, but soothingly meditative voice. He gave a small, respectful bow, which surprised both Kassashimei and I. No one had ever greeted us with a bow before, and for him to do so, made me feel all the more unworthy of his services.
"Ren Tzu has been assigned to watch over the both of you," Miss Nishio said. "He will be staying here from now on. Everywhere you go, he will follow. Do not make his job troublesome, or any harder than it needs to be. Do you understand?"
"Yes Miss Nishio," I answered reverently.
"Good. The more people who notice your guardian, the more respect this house shall receive; and perhaps, with enough luck, more business. Be mindful of what you do, for there is no shame that you can hide from this man's eyes."
Because of my newly acquired license, the Guild was quick to make sure that the Tiger Lily Tea House appeared on the employment registry. Meng had told me that, before my arrival, the tea house was not registered at all. I asked her why. Certainly, Lai and Mai were licensed and recognized by the guild, just as Kassashimei and I recently were, weren't they? She was slow to answer. And when she did, she only mentioned a proverb that many of us learned from our teachers and elders: Good fortune only follows those that do not fear opportunity.
Barely a week had past, and already a shipping captain was interested in contracting the skills of a certain silver-eyed boy and his ambitious shyo mah. Miss Nishio was quick to negotiate and even quicker to have Kassashimei and I sit in the room with her during her discussion, so that Ren Tzu would be proudly displayed beside us. Simply having our guardian with us, with his regal, calm demeanor and grand-looking swords was enough to sway the captain's thoughts in our favor. Every now and then, while he sipped his tea, his eyes lingered for the briefest of moments towards the imposing warrior sitting across from him. Miss Nishio seemed to have a cunning glow about her, knowing that such distractions made discussing the terms that much easier. She was careful to hide the fact that I had hardly any experience. Finally, the deal was made and after everything had been arranged, Kassashimei and I donned our bamboo hats and made our way to the docks. Along with our guardian, Miss Nishio personally watched over us, letting Madame Quoli run the tea house while we were away.
As was tradition, a group of monks awaited us at the ship, where they performed a short ceremony consisting of prayers, chants, and bells meant for blessing us with a safe journey. On any airship past and present there could always be found a certain number of monks, for their spiritual connections were considered good luck on voyages. They also cared for the cleanliness of the ritual decks, as well as for the well-being of all the shyo mu and shyo mah onboard.
With us, were the other contracted chienkuu ko. It was typical for a ship to contract at least six to ten pairs of us, depending on the length of the voyage. Each pair served on the ritual deck, changing shifts every few hours. Most of them regarded Kassashimei and I with envy, for many of them did not have a guardian, just an elder or some adult from their respective houses.
Though there was some pride to be had with Ren Tzu around, he seemed indifferent about his job. He barely spoke and hardly showed any expression at all. Whatever he was thinking, he made sure to keep it hidden behind an impenetrable mask. Even though he had his own quarters, he used them only to change his clothes. The rest of the time, he spent near the quarters assigned to both Kassashimei and I. He guarded the entrance to our room diligently. Even at night, while everyone was asleep, I remember cracking open the hatch, only to find Ren Tzu kneeling on the ground in some sort of light meditation. His hands were resting on his lap, near the hilt of his swords.
Such a strange way to sleep.
Still, he seemed all-the-more alert, like some predatory beast in a trance, waiting to feel some sort of disturbance in the air.
"Is everything all right?" Ren Tzu said without opening his eyes.
I gasped and quickly shut the hatch.
I was awed by the man's unflinching discipline. Although, how Kassashimei reacted to him couldn‘t be more different. Now and then, she dragged me along on what she called, games. She made us hide in various nooks and corners along the ritual decks of the ship to see if we could lose him, yet every time, she‘d find herself frustrated when he inevitably found us only a short moment later. She and I discovered in the ship's dining hall that he would only take his meals when my shyo mah and I were eating, and that no matter how little food he ate, he’d leave the table at the same time we did.
Giving in to her curiosity, Kassashimei made me swear not eat for two days. So we went hungry while she tested to see if the warrior's appetite was stronger than his devotion to his duty. Even though we tempted him by passing the dining hall several times, he remained loyally at our sides. I was nowhere near as mischievous as my partner and immediately gave up. She blamed me for being weak when I eventually dragged her back into the dining hall, which allowed our guardian the opportunity to also fill his belly.
Since Miss Nishio spent most of her time on the upper decks, she at first did not notice Kassashimei's games. But when she did, she blurted angrily at how insolent we were being and confined us to our quarters, letting us out only to eat and to perform our tasks in the ritual room.
Our services were called twice a day, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the evening. I was nervous at first, watching the other children carry out their duties with such calm and undistracted determination. But when my turn came, I was surprised to see that I was performing just as well and with equal skill.
Any doubt I had before, quickly disappeared.
From the moment that my tamma was placed atop the pedestal before me, to the respectful bows I gave to the next group of children relieving me, I felt an inspiring radiance emanating from within. Every practiced motion of my body, every watery-like detail laid out in the ether; it was as if these were the things I had already experienced in a past life. Sometimes I imagined myself as some sort of sea creature, commanding every wave with the stroke of a flipper or tail and reveling in the ribbon-like wakes I left trailing behind.
The voyage lasted a week. We traveled from one end of Rui Nan to the other, passing over oceans, several mountain chains, villages and cities and a myriad of tiny islands. In that one single trip,
I learned how powerful and inspiring just a small glimpse of the world could be.
When we returned home, I was not ashamed to tell Miss Nishio that I wanted more, that I wanted to fly again, to soar as many times as she would allow me. She looked at me as if I had just asked her for money. She placed both her palms on my cheeks and presented a stern gaze.
"How can you be so carefree, so naive," she uttered “, when you have eyes as strange as these? Do not think for a moment that you are any more special or that your future is any more favorable with such things."
She took a deep breath as if emerging from some trance, then looked away, ordering me to go to my room. For the next few days, I was unsettled by her words. But I was a determined child then and eventually looked upon my future with more hope than I ever had. I was quick to forget the uncomfortable feeling she gave me as I excitedly took each to new chance to fly the stalwart ships of my country.
Week after week I took to the skies, sometimes for a day, sometimes soaring along the ether for half a month without ever setting foot on the Earth. Miss Nishio seemed especially pleased, seeing as the contracts came one after the other without end. Madame Quoli, even with all her pride, seemed to tolerate me a little more. After all, though she probably wanted to, she could not protest the amount of money Kassashimei and I had been making for the tea house.
Sky of Paper: An Asian Steam-Driven Fantasy Tale Page 30
