by P J Tierney
Jamie got changed. He was exhausted and the bunk looked inviting. He climbed up and sank into the soft mattress. But when he closed his eyes, nothing happened. He rolled onto his side, then onto his back again, but still felt a long way from sleep. He kicked the blanket off, then tried plumping the pillow. It was just too still in the bed. He missed the roll of The Swift and the gentle lapping of the water on her hull. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, listening to the crickets chirp outside the window. Then he heard Wing whisper from the bottom bunk, ‘You asleep?’
‘No.’
Then there was a long silence before Wing said, ‘You know, I was really scared out there today.’
‘Me too.’
‘But then I saw you and I knew I’d be all right.’
Jamie smiled. ‘Even when my knife bounced off the line?’
‘Okay, maybe not then. But even before the orb, I just knew it.’
‘Knew what?’
Jamie heard Wing swallow. ‘You’re the one, Jamie. You’re the Spirit Warrior.’
The dark room hid Jamie’s sad smile. If only, he thought. He gave the smallest of laughs. ‘You’re funny, Wing.’
‘I’m not that funny.’
‘And I’m not the Spirit Warrior.’
Jamie’s words took a minute to sink in, then there was a creak from the bottom bunk. ‘Why? What makes you say that?’
Jamie pursed his lips and drew breath. ‘Because I don’t have a spirit guide.’
Wing lay back down. For Jamie, the silence was telling. There was no way to get around the lack of a spirit guide. Not even Wing could come up with an argument to convince him otherwise.
Finally Jamie rolled over and pulled the covers up to his chin. ‘Have you got a spirit guide, Wing?’
Wing’s voice was soft. ‘Yeah. I’m still figuring out how to connect with him though.’
Jamie thought about the day Wing had just had. ‘You might want to work on that before you get another sampan.’
Wing’s voice was earnest. ‘Oh no, today was different. Today I connected with him loud and strong.’
Jamie scoffed. ‘So you reckon he was with you in that storm?’
‘No,’ Wing said, ‘he wasn’t with me then,’ and he paused before adding, ‘He wasn’t with me, because that’s when he’d gone to get you.’
Jamie blinked and swallowed a lump in his throat.
‘Besides, who says you haven’t got a guide?’ Wing asked.
Jamie sighed. ‘Mr Fan, and I suppose Master Wu by now too.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about them,’ Wing said. ‘They’ve been wrong about the Spirit Warrior before.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, a couple of times.’ There was a playfulness in Wing’s voice as he said, ‘For a while there, they thought it was me.’
Jamie couldn’t tell if he was joking. ‘You?’
‘You don’t have to sound so surprised. My birthday —’
‘The fifth of February?’
‘Yeah. There’s some other stuff too, but mainly the birthday. That’s why they brought Mum and me here.’
‘Wow,’ Jamie said, ‘you, the Spirit Warrior?’ Then he realised how rude he sounded. ‘Well, it could be you, couldn’t it?’ he said, back-pedalling, hoping Wing wasn’t offended. ‘What made them decide it wasn’t you?’
Wing laughed. ‘My innate ability to be average. I’m shocking at kung fu and not really good at anything.’
‘That’s not true,’ Jamie said, ‘you’re really good at …’ He realised he didn’t know Wing well enough to say what he was good at. Wing waited him out, forcing Jamie to say something. ‘You’re good at handling a sampan.’
Wing laughed again. ‘Weren’t you there today when I nearly drowned in it?’
‘Not counting today,’ Jamie said. ‘I’ve watched you before.’
‘It’s all right, Jamie. I’m sort of pleased it’s not me. Can you imagine having Zheng on your trail?’
Jamie shuddered at the thought. ‘There must be some advantages to it,’ he said.
Wing chuckled. ‘Ask Cheng. He’s still convinced he’s the one.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Did you see the way he was looking at you tonight?’
Jamie grimaced. ‘I could hardly miss it.’
‘You might want to watch him,’ Wing said. ‘He’ll be doing everything he can to make sure no-one thinks you’re the Spirit Warrior.’
Jamie was glad that Wing wanted to warn him about Cheng, but he had well and truly figured it out for himself.
‘And keep that monkey close when Cheng’s around,’ Wing added.
Jamie sat bolt upright. ‘Jet! I’ve lost him!’
Jamie leaped from the bunk and headed into the night. If Jet was anywhere, he would be in the banana grove. Jamie negotiated the zigzag bridge and raced towards the Western Pavilions. The path was dark and the moonlight cast strange shadows through the trees. Jamie’s footfalls rang out in the crisp air.
At the Western Pavilions, he turned off the path and into the soft, wet undergrowth.
‘Jet,’ he called in a whisper, not wanting to draw the attention of anything else that might be in this eerie grove. He called again, but there was no response.
He looked into the darkness. Finding a black monkey in the middle of the night would be near impossible. He peered up the tree trunks, but the shadows played tricks on him. Bunches of bananas took on strange forms; more than once Jamie wondered what other creatures lived on this island.
He steadied himself and went further into the grove, looking up at every canopy, feeling the trunks for claw marks. He called Jet’s name and made clicking noises, and grew more and more worried. Jet had to be in the grove; where else could he be? Jamie considered checking The Swift to see if he’d gone there, or maybe the kitchen. He worried that Jet might be scared and lost. It was a feeling Jamie himself knew well.
As a last resort, Jamie checked the ground beneath the trees. Maybe Jet had fallen and hit his head. He groped around in the squishy leaves and mud, whispering Jet’s name and feeling angry at himself for not looking for him sooner. Just as he was about to give up, Jamie heard a noise that sounded like a burp.
‘Jet?’
There was a soft rustling from close by. Jamie homed in on it. His hand fell on something cold and squishy. He yanked it back and reluctantly brought it up to his nose: squashed banana. Jet had to be close by. Feeling around again, he found several more banana skins. Then his hand touched something warm and furry.
The little monkey groaned as Jamie scooped him up.
‘What happened?’ Jamie asked, feeling for wounds. The monkey’s limbs seemed fine, with no breaks, but his belly was huge and taut. Jet burped again: an enormous, vibrating, banana-smelling expulsion. Jamie exhaled his relief and Jet moaned.
Jamie started back to Wing’s room. He cradled the monkey in the crook of his arm, making sure not to squeeze him too tightly. He was walking past the side wall of the Western Pavilions when a light flicked on inside. Jamie recognised the room: it was Master Wu’s office.
He shrank back into the shadows as Master Wu walked to the window. He opened it, then leaned on the sill and stared out into the darkness. Jamie knew he and Jet were shielded by the night, but still he held his breath.
Mr Fan moved across the room and took a seat at the redwood table, where Jamie had sat only hours before. He poured tea, sipped and waited. All the while, Master Wu stared out into the night.
‘There’s something special about him,’ Master Wu said, and Jamie’s heart fluttered.
Mr Fan nodded. ‘What does the eagle claw tell you?’
‘That he’s been here before and that he was highly trained during those incarnations.’
Jamie frowned, not sure what to make of that.
Mr Fan nodded again. ‘And yet our records show no trace of him, no trace at all. Which raises the question: who was he trained by?’
Master Wu closed his eyes. ‘If it
wasn’t us, then it could only be …’
Jamie staggered and his mind reeled. By the looks on their faces, he knew the name they weren’t saying.
Master Wu gripped the ledge so tightly his knuckles turned white. ‘It means Zheng will come looking for him,’ he said.
‘Are we ready, Master Wu?’
Master Wu gestured towards the Eastern Pavilions. ‘They’re children. They shouldn’t have to be ready.’
Mr Fan stood and placed his hand on Master Wu’s shoulder. ‘They’re also Warriors of the Way. We will make them ready.’
‘How long do you think we have?’
Jamie leaned forwards. How long?
‘The storm would have disrupted the Way, so it will be difficult to trace us. A few days at the most,’ Mr Fan said.
Master Wu nodded and looked to be deep in thought. ‘A few days to have six children ready to face Zheng.’
Jamie wanted to scream, Seven, you can count on me too!
Mr Fan asked, ‘And what will we do with Jamie? Is he a danger to us?’
‘Not while he hasn’t got a guide. While Zheng is on earth he can’t operate as his spirit guide. That can only happen from the spiritual realm. I think Zheng crossed between the realms straight after Jamie’s birth.’
‘To deal with Mayling?’ Mr Fan asked.
Jamie gasped.
Master Wu snapped his head up and peered out.
Jamie clamped his hand over his mouth.
Master Wu peered for what seemed like an eternity, but then he said, ‘The timing makes sense. If Zheng is on earth now, Jamie can’t connect with him. But as soon as Zheng crosses back over, then he is free to act through the boy.’
Jamie squeezed Jet tightly.
The conversation continued and Jamie had to force himself to listen. ‘Watch him closely,’ Master Wu said. ‘If I am wrong, we can protect him; we owe Mayling that much. But if I am right and Zheng is his guide … well, what does dictum thirteen tell us?’
Mr Fan sighed and put his teacup down. ‘Dictum thirteen. The least honourable of all the dictums.’ He lowered his head.
Jamie leaned against a tree trunk and bit his bottom lip till he tasted blood. He felt ill at the thought that Zheng could be his missing guide. Zheng? he wondered. Dictum thirteen? He wondered about that as well.
Master Wu shook his head and clenched the sill. He seemed to be looking straight at Jamie when he said, ‘The Spirit Warrior is out there somewhere. Why can’t we find him?’ He turned to Mr Fan. ‘What are we missing, Yulong? Why isn’t the Great Guide helping us?’
‘Have you been following the newspapers, Master? It’s not just us the Great Guide isn’t helping — he doesn’t seem to be helping anyone.’
Jamie didn’t dare move until the two men had finished their tea and their conversation. When the office was dark again, he walked back to Wing’s room in a confused daze. He was still reeling from the thought that Zheng could be his missing spirit guide. He wished he’d never heard any of it.
He tried to be quiet as he climbed into his bunk, but it was tricky with Jet still in the crook of his arm.
‘Did you find him?’ Wing asked sleepily.
‘Yeah, I found him, stuffed full of bananas.’
‘Ahh,’ said Wing, ‘a monkey after my own heart. Here, pass him down.’
Jamie leaned over the side of the bunk and handed the monkey over. Jet was oblivious, sleeping off his gluttony. Wing propped him up on his pillow.
‘Does it work,’ he said, ‘having a monkey as a talisman? Does he warn you of danger?’
Jamie thought about what he’d just heard in Master Wu’s office. Now he didn’t know who to trust. ‘I have no idea,’ he said to the ceiling. ‘No idea at all.’
Wing snuggled into his sheets.
‘Hey,’ Jamie said, before he drifted off, ‘what’s dictum thirteen?’
Wing’s reply was partly muffled. ‘It’s from The Art of War. Dictum thirteen is about spies — your spies, enemy spies.’
Jamie tried to keep his voice casual. ‘What does it say about enemy spies?’
Wing yawned. ‘Enemy spies must be sought out, tempted with bribes, comfortably housed, and so they will become converted spies …’ His voice faded into sleep.
Jamie clenched his jaw. His full belly and warm blanket didn’t seem like such kind gestures any more.
I’ll show them, he said to himself. I’ll show them I’m not who they think I am.
Chapter 24
It felt like Jamie had only just closed his eyes when a pounding on the door woke him. He sat bolt upright, momentarily confused, and blinked till he remembered where he was.
‘Oh no,’ Wing said, turning his face into his pillow.
‘Oh no, what?’
Wing mumbled something.
Jamie climbed down and pulled Wing’s pillow from beneath his head. It sent Jet scurrying. ‘What’d you say?’
‘That was Cheng.’
‘You can tell from the pounding?’
‘Trust me, it’s Cheng. Is it Friday?’ Wing asked.
Jamie shrugged.
‘Oh man, please don’t let it be Friday.’
‘Oi, you two, up!’ It was Cheng’s voice.
‘It is Friday,’ Wing whined.
‘What’s so bad about Fridays?’
Wing sighed and climbed out of bed. ‘You’ll see.’
The sun had yet to cast its first shadow over the courtyard when the boys stumbled from their room. Wing’s hair poked up every which way and Jamie suspected his looked just as bad. Edwin was picking sleep from his eyes and Bruce’s shirt was inside out. The girls, however, looked like they’d been up for hours. Jade’s uniform was crisp, belt neatly tied at her waist and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Lucy’s plaited braids were finished with bright pink bows.
The Warriors of the Way wore shirts that bore the Chia Wu emblem: a circle depicting the mountain and the Grand Pagoda enclosed by the granite wall. Jamie wore a spare shirt of Wing’s over his shorts; the others all wore theirs over baggy white kung fu pants. Their belts were folded over at one end, with a knot in the other. What surprised Jamie was that they were all the same colour. He’d always thought the colour of the belt indicated rank. On closer inspection, he saw that while the belts were the same colour, they weren’t all the same. Each one had different patterns stitched into it.
Wing caught him looking. ‘The first pattern is your chop mark,’ he said, pointing to the square representation of his name. ‘The rest gets filled up with your achievements.’ Jamie saw that apart from his chop mark, Wing’s belt was blank. ‘I’ve got a bit of work to do,’ Wing said.
‘What’s the knot for?’ Jamie asked.
Wing grinned. He flicked his wrist and the belt made a loud snapping sound as the knot flew at Jamie’s head. Jamie flinched just as a furry little hand reached out and caught it, stopping it only millimetres from his cheek.
‘Nice save,’ Wing said to Jet.
Jamie plucked his little monkey from the rail behind him and put him on his shoulder. Maybe a monkey wasn’t such a bad talisman after all.
Cheng called them to attention and, on hearing his voice, Jet dug his claws into Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie reached up and patted him, letting him know he understood.
Cheng bowed to them, then led the Warriors of the Way in a run. Jamie fell in behind the others and Jet quickly gave up on trying to stay perched on Jamie’s bouncing shoulder. He swung into the trees.
They ran to the far side of the grounds, around the Grand Pagoda, then towards the mountain. Jamie looked up at its peak. He was reasonably fit, but he didn’t like the thought of running all the way up there. He hoped they might go round it, but based on Wing’s earlier dread, he knew they wouldn’t.
Jamie started off well, but he was gasping for air before they were even halfway up the mountain. By the time he reached the three-quarter mark, he was a long way behind. His legs were burning and sweat was streaming down his face. Not far, he ke
pt saying to himself, not far now, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up to see exactly how far. One more step, he said over and over again, just to that tree; and when he got there, just to that bend. After every tree or bend, there was another one, then another. His legs were failing, his breath was gone, yet there was still further to go.
After an eternity, he finally felt the climb level out. When he reached the top, he doubled over with exhaustion and utter relief. He had made it. He would have thrown his arms up in the air to celebrate, except that he didn’t want to show how close he’d come to not finishing.
But Jamie wasn’t finished; far from it.
He watched, gobsmacked, as Wing put his hands to the stairs on the other side of the summit. He leaned over and started headfirst down the steep mountain stairs on his hands and toes. Edwin lined up to go next.
Jamie looked around, expecting the others to start laughing. This had to be some sort of joke. But Jade followed Edwin, then Lucy and then Bruce. It was just Cheng and Jamie left. Any thought that this might be a joke quickly evaporated when Jamie saw Cheng’s face. His smile was the most sarcastic Jamie had ever seen; in fact, it made Morris look almost friendly.
Cheng pointed to the top step.
Jamie kneeled and put his hands to the stairs.
‘Use your feet, not your knees,’ Cheng said.
Jamie assumed a push-up position and because he was inclined he felt unbalanced. He thought he might slip headfirst at any second.
He carefully shifted his weight forwards and reached for the next step. A pebble dug into the heel of his palm and he stumbled, cursing as he crashed into the stairs and slid down two of them. He tried to reposition himself, but a foot in the middle of his back stopped him.
Cheng pushed all his weight on Jamie and said, ‘You earn the right to wear that shirt.’ He wiped the dirt from his canvas boot over the Chia Wu emblem. ‘You’re a long way off that.’
Cheng had the high ground and the advantage. Jamie swallowed his pride and pushed himself back into position.
‘Move it,’ Cheng said.
Jamie stumbled down the next few steps until he found a technique that seemed to work. If he shifted his weight from side to side and used his toes for balance, he could manage a snake-like glide. Even with this revelation, it was hard going. The bones in his wrists ground together, his elbows ached and his lower back throbbed.
