Eternal

by Grant, Alasdair

  “Jade.” Mistress Song returns her attention to me. “What color is the flower in my hair?”

  “The flower? It’s red.”

  “Are you certain?”

  I glance at Lily.

  “It looks yellow to me,” Lily whispers.

  “Is it?” Mistress Song presses. “Or does it even exist?”

  The flower vanishes. My mouth drops open, and Lily scowls.

  “This is why we meditate,” Mistress Song says. “Until your amplitudes are focused enough to distinguish this kind of fantasy from reality, you won’t be ready to move on.”

  “How…how did you do that?” Lily demands. “How do you force your illusions on me?”

  “How isn’t important. The fact that I can is what matters, because it means a well-trained enemy can still exploit you.”

  “But…” Lily cuts herself off and shakes her head. She tilts her head and examines Mistress Song’s empty hair as if the flower might still be hiding there. Finally she bites her lower lip and looks away.

  “Detecting manipulation,” Mistress Song tells us, “is all about focus. Once you have proper focus, only the most subtly skillful manipulations will escape your notice. Focus is likewise essential for projecting your own amplitudes. Without it you can never hope to master any of the skills I wish to teach you.”

  “If it takes so much focus,” Lily says, “how was Jade able to do it? How was she able to link with her other self without training?”

  Mistress Song gives me a sharp look. “You told her.”

  “It was an accident,” I whisper.

  “Which is the same way Jade became linked,” Mistress Song says to Lily. “By accident. Sometimes these things happen.”

  “So it has happened before,” Lily says. “To other people.”

  “I think we’ve covered more than enough for one night,” Mistress Song says. “Please return two nights from now. Practice your meditation for at least one additional hour tonight and one tomorrow. Wan’an, Student Lily. Wan’an, Student Jade.”

  We uncomfortably return our teacher’s farewell, rise to our feet, and quietly exit the pagoda. The air outside is warm and humid. Moths dance around the security lanterns, and crickets chirp somewhere in the night.

  “I wonder what she’s hiding from us,” Lily whispers. “Sometimes I think she hides more than she reveals.”

  I’ve had that same suspicion, but I decide against voicing it.

  “Something’s bothering you,” Lily says, catching me off guard. “It has something to do with your dreams, doesn’t it?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I can just tell. What’s happening in Jenna’s world?”

  I hang my shoulders. “Someone she’s very close to has been injured and might die.”

  “Who is it?” The look on her face tells me she already guesses.

  I hesitate, wondering if it will bother Lily the same way it would bother me if someone confirmed my alternate self was about to plummet into death’s abyss.

  “You,” I finally murmur. “The other you. She was attacked. She might die.”

  “Attacked? Attacked by who?”

  Lily clenches her teeth, angry.

  “The Eternal Emperor.”

  Now her face loses all color. “He…he has found your link?”

  I nod.

  “Have you told Master Ning?”

  “Master Ning is gone. He’s been called away from the school and won’t be back for months. Maybe I should tell Mistress Jiu-Li or Mistress Song. So far I’ve only told you.”

  Lily knits her eyebrows together and stares at her feet. After a moment, she looks up and firmly says, “You don’t have to tell anyone. You and I can fix this.”

  “Fix it? How?”

  “Tell me how your link with Jade was formed. Tell me everything that happened so I can do the same thing. If I manage it, we’ll save the other Lily. Just like being linked healed your hand.”

  She hasn’t spoken of it since that night outside Master Ning’s pagoda, but she’s obviously been thinking about it. And now she’s fit the puzzle’s pieces together and understands what it means to be linked.

  “It will heal her,” she presses. “Won’t it? The other Lily can’t die if she and I get linked.”

  “We…we shouldn’t be talking about this. It isn’t safe.”

  Lily refuses to drop the subject.

  “It’s what makes the Eternal Emperor eternal,” she says. “A Fifth Amplitude link. That’s why he’s after you. Because you’ve become immortal, too. Tell me how to do it.”

  “I can’t tell you how to do it!” My insides tighten. “It just happened! I don’t know why. I don’t know how.”

  She stares at me a moment, shakes her head, pivots on both heels and starts to walk away.

  “Lily, stop!”

  I dash after her and grab her sleeve.

  “I would tell you if I knew. I would do anything to save Jenna’s Lily. Honestly! I would tell you!”

  Lily stares at me, slumps, and sighs.

  “What are you going to do?” she asks. “How will you save yourself from the Emperor?”

  “I don’t know. If Master Ning were here…”

  “You think he could help?”

  “I think he could tell me about Xu Fu’s Seventh Prophecy. The Eternal Emperor thinks Jenna and I are destined to kill him. That’s why dreams are forbidden. To keep the prophecy from happening.”

  “So we’ll ask Master Ning about it. As soon as he gets back.”

  “He won’t be back soon enough.”

  Lily’s brow wrinkles. “Why would he leave now? Why would he leave at a time like this?”

  “I don’t think leaving was his idea. Mistress Jiu-Li said he was ‘called away.’”

  Something flashes across Lily’s face, but it comes and goes too fast for me to interpret it.

  “We’ll figure something out,” she says. “We’ll finish our training. We’ll work extra hard so we can fight him if he comes for you.”

  I nod. I’m grateful for her determination to help me, but I feel afraid. I don’t think any amount of training is enough to stop an enemy this powerful.

  FORTY

  四十

  JENNA

  In each hand I lightly grip a black-handled kitchen knife. Uncertainly, I slide into the Wind Dance’s starting position. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and when I open them again I dip, whirl, and slash.

  I’m surprised at how natural the movements feel. I’ve watched Jade and Mistress Jiu-Li perform this dance, but I’ve never tried it myself. Now my body reacts as if every synapse and muscle has trained for it. I feel wildly exhilarated as my hair whips around me in my spinning attack.

  Something tugs at the blades. Two long gashes appear across my lime-green bedspread. Cottony stuffing bleeds out of the wounds.

  Concentration broken, I stagger and nearly fall. I’m still fighting for balance when a light knock echoes through my door.

  “Jenna? May I come in?”

  I look at the ruined bedspread, glance at the long knives, and quickly tear the green comforter off my bed. Wrapping it around the knives, I hurry to my closet and stuff the wadded bundle inside. The bedroom door opens, and Mom enters just as I finish shutting the closet’s bi-fold doors.

  “Still deciding on what to wear to school today?”

  “I…uh… Yeah. I was looking for a different pair of shoes. Is it already time to go?”

  Mom watches me a moment, blinks, and lowers her eyes.

  “I just got off the phone…” She stares at my unmade bed.

  I swallow hard.

  “Lily?”

  “No. Not Lily. Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you like that.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Yeye. He passed away last night in his sleep.”

  I move forward and quickly take her hand.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. This is sad news…”

  “There will be a fune
ral. On Saturday.”

  I continue to awkwardly hold her hand because I don’t know what else to do.

  “Have you changed your mind about the funeral?” I finally say. “Do you want to go? Do you want me there with you?”

  Mom straightens her shoulders, looks up, and forces a strained smile to her lips.

  “Yes. I think I do want to attend, and I definitely want you there with me. In fact—considering everything that’s happened here lately—maybe the timing of this is a blessing…”

  She stares at my closet.

  “I think I’m feeling a little shell-shocked,” she says. “This hasn’t come unexpectedly. I knew Yeye’s health was poor, but…”

  I squeeze her hand. I know how she’s feeling. Nothing can prepare you for death.

  “Ready for school?” Mom asks.

  “Yeah, I just need to grab my books.”

  I snatch my school bag off the floor and follow her to the kitchen.

  We’ll be leaving for San Francisco again. Yeye’s death might buy me a few days.

  FORTY-ONE

  四十一

  JENNA

  I eat lunch quickly. It’s uncomfortable sitting alone in a cafeteria with groups of smiling, laughing people occupying the tables around me. For a day or two following the attack, the atmosphere was subdued. The school had crisis counselors in the library, and kids who didn’t even know Lily went there to deal with their fears. I didn’t go. They tried to make me, but I firmly refused. Now I seem to be the only one who hasn’t forgotten Lily is hospitalized and might never come back.

  How can a person’s life go downhill so fast? If I have to be miserable alone, I want to go someplace where it isn’t so blatantly obvious I’m on my own. Even though my lunch is only half-eaten, I get up and carry my plastic tray to the trash cans. They’re half-filled with uneaten food.

  I decide to stop at my locker, and I grab the first book my fingers can find. Tucking it quickly under my arm, I head for the Quad. The weather is nice, so it’s filled with other students on their lunch break. Despite the crowds, it’s easier to blend into the scenery out here.

  I walk past the small round tables with their white and yellow parasols and head for an area where other loners recline. Most of them have their noses in books. I’m fortunate enough to find an isolated spot on a low retaining wall where I can take shelter in a tree’s dark shadow. In case anyone does decide to look my way, I open my own book to blend in.

  Why did this have to happen? Why not some other Jenna in some other parallel universe? Why did Jade’s dream amplitudes select me?

  “That must be an important page.”

  I jerk my head up, startled, and nearly fall backward into the grass. Derek Choy puts a warm hand on my shoulder to steady me.

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you. Is this place next to you free?”

  “What?” I mumble. “Oh. Yes. Sure. Sit down if you’d like.”

  “I heard about your friend,” he says, his voice subdued. “It’s awful. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks,” I say, nodding.

  “How is she doing?”

  “Not good.”

  We’re both silent a moment.

  “So… What are you studying?”

  Thank goodness he’s smart enough to know when to switch to something less emotional.

  “I have a quiz today. I’m studying for…”

  I glance at the textbook to see which one I grabbed.

  “I mean… Uh…”

  Derek tilts forward and examines the cover.

  “Wing Chun Kung Fu: A Practical Guide,” he reads aloud. “Cool! I wish the counselors had told me about that option when they were signing me up for classes.”

  “It’s not a class,” I explain. “We have to do different kinds of books for our English II reading requirement. I was at the library, and this one…er…kind of jumped out at me.”

  I’m a terrible liar, but he seems to have forgotten my “quiz” comment and accepts this explanation without question.

  “I know a little kung fu,” he says. “Some judo and Kenpo techniques, too. I can teach you a few moves if you’re interested.”

  “Really? Um… Sure. That sounds fun.”

  “Stand up.”

  “Right now?”

  “I thought you said it sounded fun.”

  I look nervously around at all the potential spectators.

  “They won’t mind,” Derek says laughing. “Come on.”

  Relenting, I set the kung fu book in the grass and get slowly to my feet.

  “I’ll show you my favorite Kenpo move first,” Derek says. “It’s easy to remember and could come in handy if, you know, some undesirable ever tries to grab you from behind.”

  He knows I was in the restroom with Lily. He knows something like this already happened to me. I feel a warm rush of gratitude for the careful way he’s trying to help me.

  “All right,” I say. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Do you mind if I, um, put my arms around you? For demonstration purposes of course.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He circles his arms around me, pinning my arms against my side. I have difficulty breathing. Not because he’s holding too tight. Someone or something is manipulating my emotions.

  “The important thing,” Derek says, “is to move quickly before the guy behind you manages to lift you off your feet. The first thing you want to do is move your feet shoulder-width apart and drop your center of gravity.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yeah. Perfect! Do you notice how it pulls me off balance? When you drop your weight like that, it forces me to readjust my stance before I can lift you. Now move your left hand up and clap it over my hands. Good. And this next part… Well, try not to actually hit me when you do it.

  “My martial arts teacher likes to call this next move the ‘meat tenderizer,’” he says. “Make your right hand into a fist. But keep your thumb on top of the first knuckles so you don’t accidentally break it.”

  I do as instructed.

  “The next part is easy,” Derek explains. “Swing that fist down like a hammer and pound your attacker’s groin as hard as you can three or four times.”

  I lift my fist for the swing, and Derek flinches.

  “Not that you have to actually hit me. You can save that for a real bad guy.”

  “Okay.”

  I pretend to “tenderize” without making any actual contact.

  “And what do I do after that?” I ask.

  “By the time you’ve finished that part, a normal guy won’t be pinning your arms anymore. You can push his hands off and run away.”

  Derek releases me, and we move self-consciously apart.

  “That was easy,” I say. “I think I can remember it.”

  “There’s another move,” Derek says. “One to use if you get grabbed under your arms instead of on top of them. I can show you that one, too, if you want.”

  I’m about to say yes when my cell phone vibrates. I remove it from my pocket and stare at the screen.

  “My mom,” I say apologetically. “I should probably answer.”

  “No problem.”

  He shoves both hands in his pockets, kicks at an empty gum wrapper, and takes a few steps away from me.

  “Hello?”

  “I have bad news,” Mom says.

  The line goes silent for several moments.

  “Lily?” I finally ask, my voice a frightened whisper.

  “She’s taken a turn for the worse. Her mother says she’s had an intracerebral hemorrhage. It happened sometime early this morning.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means her brain is bleeding. The doctors are doing everything they can to stop it, but…”

  She can’t go on.

  “Will she die?” I nearly choke on the words.

  “Even if she survives, there will be permanent brain damage.”

  I squeeze my free hand into a f
ist. I blink back tears and clench my teeth. Several emotions surge through me in rapid succession. Numbed disbelief. Grief. Anger. Rage.

  “I didn’t want to tell you,” Mom says, “but I knew you’d want to know. I’m on my way to check you out of school for the rest of the day.”

  “All right,” I gasp.

  I hang up quickly.

  “Is…everything all right?” Derek asks.

  “I have to go,” I say. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk right now.”

  I hurry across the Quad, chest hurting, vision blurred. Why did any of this have to happen?

  FORTY-TWO

  四十二

  JADE

  “The Moon Dance,” Mistress Jiu-Li commands. “Please show me the first few steps of the Moon Dance.”

  “What?”

  “What’s wrong with you today? Focus, Jade.”

  I nod. I strike the starting pose.

  “Begin.”

  The Moon Dance is slow, delicate, and graceful. I don’t see how any slashing fan attacks can be hidden in this one, but I know better than to question. I make a fluid circular motion with my right hand while pivoting a quarter turn on my heels. My left hand sweeps downward, palm parallel with the floor, and Mistress Jiu-Li scrutinizes each movement.

  “Stop. Repeat from the beginning and pause at the same point.”

  Lily scowls, her shoulders stiffening. With a sideward glance, I try to warn her away from complaint, but words flow from her mouth.

  “You said you’d be teaching us how to defend ourselves. Why are we wasting time on a dance every Second-Year knows by heart?”

  Mistress Jiu-Li’s eyes narrow.

  “Mistress Song must dispense with all formalities during your evening lessons with her. Formalities like waiting to be addressed or calling a teacher by her title. You won’t find things so relaxing here.”

  Lily quickly lowers her eyes.