‘Very good,’ says Tomodo. ‘Rycoo and Raman were twin brothers. The magic that lay inside the blood of the dragon king was passed on to them. But the twins had another power, too, the ability to change from dragons into any animal they wanted to be. They could be a bird one day and a fish the next – seemingly a very useful power to possess.’
‘Very!’ I say and imagine myself turning into a tiny beetle whenever it was time to have a bath.
Tomodo gazes around him. ‘Now this, right here, is where the story comes to – this very fishing village we are sitting above right now.’
I look between the lurching boats and the houses on the water, and I try to imagine what this village could possibly have to do with dragons.
Tomodo laughs, which takes me by surprise, and continues: ‘You see, one day Rycoo was flying across this part of the ocean and, as he came nearer the shore, he saw a maiden from this village standing by the water, looking out to sea. Though she was a human, she was so beautiful that Rycoo forgot how to fly properly and fell into the ocean waves, overcome with love. When he climbed out of the water, he had changed himself to look like a man. He married the maiden and decided to live here on the earth with her forever.
‘This might sound like a happy story, Kumiko, but it is not. Dragons were arrogant and disliked humans. They thought people were weak and foolish and possessed no wisdom at all. Because of this, Rycoo’s decision to remain a human was not taken well. When the dragon king died, soon after the marriage, the other brother, Raman, became the new king. He was so angry with his twin for choosing to live on the earth that he told Rycoo never to return to the palace in the clouds.’
Tomodo sighs sadly, a sound like the wind before it rains. ‘So, Kumiko, the years eventually drifted by, and neither brother spoke to the other.’
‘Not once?’ I ask.
Tomodo shakes his head. ‘Not even once. By the time fifty years had passed, which is a short time for dragons but a long time for humans, Rycoo had grown to be an old, old man. Because he lived a human life and not a dragon life, one day, like all humans, he died.
‘When the news that Rycoo had died came to the palace in the clouds, Raman was very sad that he had not stayed friends with his twin. He decided he had to go down to earth to attend the funeral and say goodbye. After some thought, Raman turned himself into a deer so he could watch the funeral quietly from behind the trees and not frighten anybody or appear to be a stranger.
‘But something terrible happened, a tragic mistake. A hunter saw Raman there and, thinking that he really was a deer, shot him with a bow and arrow. Sadly, that was that. Both brothers were dead.’
Tomodo stops for a second to see if this has upset me, but I draw my knees up to my chin and he goes on with his story.
‘Back in the dragon kingdom, all the dragons wept for their king and for their human prince, Rycoo, and they cried in misery that soon every dragon would die because King Raman had not yet had any children to pass on the magic of dragon life.’
‘But it wasn’t true!’ I interrupt. ‘Because you are a dragon, Tomodo, and you are ... You are alive, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am alive and the magic is too.’ Tomodo’s mouth curls into a grin. ‘At first, even the wisest dragons could not understand how the magic could still exist with both the brothers gone. Some started to believe that maybe it had never been there at all. But then they remembered that Rycoo and the maiden he had married fifty years earlier had had one child, a girl.’
‘A human girl?’ I ask.
‘Oh, yes.’ Tomodo’s voice rumbles. ‘It angered some, but for most it was simply amazing. A human was carrying the sacred magic that kept all dragons alive! So no matter how the news was taken, they all agreed that from then on a powerful dragon should be made a guardian for Rycoo’s daughter, his granddaughter, his great-granddaughter and so on, for all who carry the magic – to prevent us from ever coming so close to extinction again.’
Tomodo looks straight into my eyes. ‘The great dragon Rycoo was your ancestor, and though he lived a thousand years ago you and your sister carry in your blood the magic that keeps all dragons alive. This is why I guard you, Kumiko, for my life and for that of all dragons.’
Tomodo turns to gaze at the sky, and I know that his story is true. But what a story it is. Mother simply would not believe it. But more than that, it is frightening to think that perhaps I am not the same person I was yesterday.
chapter five
I am sitting on an unknown family’s rooftop far away from home, with a dragon nobody would believe existed. Inside I don’t feel any different, and yet there is some magic in me that nobody else knows is there, not Mother, not Father, not even my Obasaan. Only the dragons know.
Tomodo peers up at a shooting star. ‘We may have company,’ he says.
As I look in the same direction, I see that one shooting star is actually many shooting stars splayed like beautiful fireballs about the sky. But then I see the dark shapes behind them, which hiss, growl and chatter like dry bones in a bowl.
Dragon shadows begin to stretch over the fishing village, filling the crab pots outside the houses with darkness.
Too frightened to speak, I crouch between Tomodo’s legs and feel his hot belly press up against my back.
There is a whisper nearby: ‘She’s here!’
A hundred voices roar in response, a sound so unified and so loud that I almost believe it is about to rain. A shadow near us moves closer.
‘Hello, Tomodo,’ a slow voice growls. ‘Where is she, the little one? Are you hiding her from us?’
Peering out from behind Tomodo’s legs, I see masses of scales, mouthfuls of sharp teeth, and countless pairs of wings cloaking the rooftops. Egg-yellow eyes fix themselves on us and wait for Tomodo’s answer.
Scared though I am, I find myself wondering whether there are such things as good dragons and evil dragons. How I wish I had asked that before I stepped out of my bedroom window tonight!
I think of the old man across the street from our house, who lights incense sticks each morning above little dishes of rice cakes. Mother once told me that this was because he believes that a gift for the good spirits helps ward off the evil ones. But we never left anything by our door in the mornings.
Tomodo straightens up as I crouch lower. He speaks to the crowd: ‘Yes, it is true. Kumiko is here with me.’ Feverish whispering follows. ‘But she is worried about your intentions. Perhaps you should tell her why you’ve all come.’
The shadows turn to one another and murmur like the west-wind across the chimney tops.
‘Well,’ ventures the same slow voice, ‘we can’t all be guardian dragons like Tomodo. But when we heard of this opportunity, we had to come. To meet the Great Kumiko would be an honour.’
Part of me wants Tomodo to fly us far away, but I press my forehead against his scales and make myself think about what has been said. I decide that the dragons must be sincere. There are so many of them and so little of me, there wouldn’t be enough to go around if all they wanted was dinner.
I take a deep breath but all that emerges is a whisper: ‘Alright,’ I say, ‘I’ll come out.’
Everything is silent. I crawl nervously out from behind Tomodo’s legs, and a hundred faces lean in towards me. Some are small, most are large, but all are the faces of dragons. I stand up to cries of ‘Waah!’, like I am the fireworks of Hanabi season.
‘She’s wonderful,’ exclaims a beetle-black dragon.
‘Yes, precious, like a diamond,’ growls a dragon with a head the size of a small mountain.
‘We must take her to see the castle in the sky!’ shouts another.
A very fat dragon who is squashing some unfortunate person’s chimney shouts, ‘We’ll have to have a feast!’
I pretend to be happy but secretly wonder if I am the feast.
Tomodo laughs loudly from behind me. ‘You’ll have to stop wondering that, Kumiko. I promise you will be safe. You’re with me, after all, and ..
.’
‘Oh, hurry up and let’s go. I’m going to die of starvation,’ whines the fat dragon. He begins to jump and flap his tiny wings. The roof shakes and groans in a concerning manner, but then his feet lift up and he starts to huff and puff his way through the midnight air.
I climb onto Tomodo’s back and fit my hands between his scales like warm gloves. As tails of all colours stream skywards behind prancing dragons more beautiful than a street parade, more exciting than the new-year, I realise that I am not afraid anymore. Not even a little. Not at all.
chapter six
We leave the fishing village together, the dragons and I, a shooting rainbow of giants. We reach a sea of clouds and sail through them as fast as warships, with waves of white breaking on every side. The dragons’ hollow roars carry on the wind like strange, excited songs. A small dragon I hadn’t noticed before wriggles its way up to me.
‘Hello, Kumiko.’
‘Hello.’
‘I just came to say—’
What the small dragon was going to say I will never know, because Tomodo tips down suddenly towards a great mass of clouds.
But it is not a mass of clouds; it is something more, something so vast that I can only look at it in parts. It is something like my dreams but bigger than they could ever be. It moves towards us quickly – thousands of spires that twist up to misty peaks that blow away in the wind, white archways thick and winding like blurred tree roots. The closer it gets, the more I have to crane my neck to see it all – the tree-like shapes pulling up from the cloud, the stairs like waterfalls of white. In the midst of it all, dragons begin to land, cloud puffing out from under their feet.
We fall after them, straight down against the rushing wind. I shut my eyes and hold on tightly, ready to land hard. But then ... nothing. Tomodo turns and grins, as though a great beast should never weigh more than a feather! But what if only dragons can stand on clouds? What if little girls fall straight through them?
I hold my breath and jump. The ground catches me, soft and cool, like water but drier and emptier. The strange, misty surface is easy to stand on. A long, furry dragon glides over. ‘Do you like it, Kumiko?’
A million things to say! ‘Yes!’
‘Well, it’s yours,’ she says. ‘You carry the sacred magic inside you, and so in this place you are royalty. You belong here.’
I am not sure what to say, but I don’t get a chance. Before there is time to think, I am whisked off by two small dragons whose tongues hang eagerly out of their mouths.
As they pull me through the misty streets of what turns out to be a cloud city rather than a cloud castle, new dragon faces erupt from every wispy window shouting ‘Hello’, ‘Konnichi-wa’ and ‘Good evening’. The pearly white walls turn a glowing orange and the dragons blow embers like fireflies that float about lighting the things they touch. The talking grows louder. Soon there is no more sleepy silver, only the blazing gold of sunset and the jabbering of a busy market. On clawed feet the dragons dance in stomping circles and roar and sing wild songs I do not understand. They make my legs move, my feet jump, my arms swing and my voice shout loud enough to wake towns far away. I am not a little girl anymore. I am a dragon. There’s fire in my belly and claws in my heart, and I like it. I like being a dragon. Dragons don’t have to follow rules, or do sums at school. They go to bed whenever they want to and the old ones listen to the young ones. Best of all, dragons are wild and fierce and not afraid of anything.
We spend the night roaring and blowing the cloud into fish and rabbit shapes and rings to jump through. Some dragons aren’t careful enough when they blow, and their fire turns the clouds into water that falls away as heavy drops down towards the earth. I play hide-and-seek in a forest of dragons’ tails and learn how to smell with my tongue. As a fire dance of flames slashes around the sky, a golden dragon with a lion’s face jumps down beside me, a green fabric hanging out of his mouth. He places the fabric by my feet. It is the most exquisite thing I have ever touched, a cape heavy with chips of emerald in shapes that resemble dragon scales.
‘Put it on! Put it on! We have a big announcement!’ he growls.
Excited, I pull the cape on over my nightwear, and he hands me a little gold crown, which I place on my head. The lion-dragon lifts me up over his waving mane and shouts to all the assembled dragons: ‘Three cheers for our Princess Kumiko, princess of all the dragons!’
‘Wait …’ I say.
‘HaRahhh,’ they shout. ‘HaRahhh.’
They throw me with smiles into the air and catch me. ‘Let’s sing to a new era. Let’s sing to all as it should be.’
There is a feast of glowing sparks, warm as freshly laid eggs and as sweet as honey. There are bowls of rainwater flavoured with starlight, cups swirling with ocean spray. None of it is like anything Mother would make. Nothing like it at all.
When most of the dragons have fallen asleep in billowing nests or on the tops of the strange white trees, their bellies all fat and rolling from the feast, I sit on the edge of a little cloud and look down at the world below.
Tomodo creeps up behind me. ‘I think I can see your house down there,’ he says softly.
I nod.
‘Kumiko,’ Tomodo says with a chuckle, ‘you know I can hear your curiosity.’
I look at him, alarmed. I had forgotten he could do that!
‘You’re wondering how your mother will feel if you are not there in the morning.’
‘Yes.’
‘But you know the answer already, don’t you, Kumiko?’
When Tomodo says this, something inside me falls very hard and I feel like crying. I know Mother will be afraid if I am not there, maybe even more afraid than I was of my dragon.
I remember a time when I was lost in the markets. It was only for an hour or so, but when Mother found me she hugged me like I had been gone forever.
A tear falls off my cheek and swirls into the cloud.
‘But you said to me, Tomodo, that you would show me who I really am, and why I am so precious, and now we are here.’ I point to my emerald scales and to the shimmering castle of clouds. ‘This is who I really am, and this is what is so special about me.’
Tomodo is quiet for a little while and then he says, ‘But is that true, Kumiko?’
I don’t understand what he means.
‘Ah, well,’ says Tomodo. ‘Do you recall the story I told you on the roof?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good,’ says Tomodo, ‘because that story is important. Not because of what it tells us about the past, but because of what it tells us right now. Do you know what the saddest part of that story is?’
‘That the two brothers died?’ I say.
Tomodo shakes his head. ‘What is sad is that the brothers did not live together, that they were not at peace with one another. That is what was so terrible. But do you know what the happiest part was?’
I shake my head.
‘That as a human or a dragon, Rycoo knew who he wanted to be and what would make him happiest of all. Because of that, I am here talking to you right now.’
When Tomodo says this, I finally understand what has to be done.
With Tomodo’s help, I climb up onto a tall pillar of cloud and call the dragons to attention. One by one they hear me, and it doesn’t take long before I hold their firm but silent gaze.
‘As much as I love being a dragon and living in a castle in the sky,’ I say, ‘I cannot stay with you forever.’
I remind the dragons of the story of the brothers, and they too understand that I cannot be their princess. ‘But,’ I say, as I remove the crown, ‘I hope that I can always be your friend.’
First there is silence, as the dragons take in this news. Then I hear a few sniffles, a few snorts and a few great big wails from the fat dragon whose tears were plopping like raindrops onto his great big tummy.
‘Oh, you dragons are not so fierce after all,’ I say. ‘There’s no need to cry. Just because I won’t live here foreve
r doesn’t mean you can’t see me tomorrow!’
When I say this, the dragons begin to smile and chuckle and slap each other on the back, and when I am safely between Tomodo’s wings, they blow a cheerful stream of fiery stars that light a path through the night, all the way back home.
chapter seven
When Tomodo and I land once more on the blue tiles of my house, I actually feel excited to see my room again. Peering in through the window, all I can see are familiar things, the most safe and comfortable things I know.
Tomodo curls up by my window like he has always done and I sit beside him on the window sill. Before I have time to ask, he says, ‘Yes, Kumiko, there is something else I haven’t told you.’
My tummy leaps as I try to guess what it might be.
Tomodo says, ‘There is another power you possess.’
‘There is?’ I look at my arms and feet to see if there might be some magic part of me I missed. ‘What is it?’
‘The power of courage, Kumiko.’
My heart sinks like a stone in a pond. ‘I’m not brave,’ I tell him. ‘I have been afraid of everything and I was terribly afraid of you for a long time before I wrote that letter. I almost didn’t write it.’
Tomodo’s eyes gleam. ‘Perhaps,’ he says. ‘But brave and not brave is the same as do or do not. You did write the letter, didn’t you?
‘Yes.’
‘And stood up to a whole kingdom of dragons?’
‘Yes.’
Tomodo chuckles. ‘Well, not even Rycoo did as much in one day!’
I take a blanket from my bed and curl up on it beside my dragon on the roof. Now there is a light shining, only this time it isn’t coming from downstairs, it is in me and around me. With a yawn I shut my eyes and hear the wind through the trees, the dragon’s breath over the tiles, and perhaps even the sound of sleepy songs in the sky.
Kumiko and the Dragon Page 2
