Song of the Mountain (Mountain Trilogy Book 1)

by Michelle Isenhoff

  She ran back, alarm showing in her face. “What is it?” she gasped.

  “No time! Come on!” He grabbed her hand and dragged her behind him.

  Scrambling up the rocks beside the tumbling stream, they climbed the cliff face. Halfway up, hidden behind rock and scrubby brush, a narrow, slippery ledge ran beneath the curtain of water. Here, the rock had been carved away, leaving a shallow cave. Song had wandered across it one day purely by accident, so well was it hidden, but from its mouth the whole valley lay exposed.

  “Song, what did you see?” Karina asked breathlessly.

  “Watch,” he whispered.

  They crouched motionless in the safety of the cave opening. Their vigil was soon rewarded. A shadow, tiny as a sparrow, flowed over the valley’s blowing grasses. Looking up, high, high above the mountain’s crown, Song could see the dragon soaring over the valley, twisting, circling, searching—for them! A shudder of fear shook him.

  Moments later, a dark shape flowed low over the waterfall, following the stream down the mountain, and Song got his first look at the serpent as it leveled out over the pool below. The monster was black and snakelike, with a huge, triangular head and an impossibly long, trailing tail. The span of its wings was wider than the clearing at home. It glided smoothly on air currents with movements as graceful as ripples on the pool below.

  Karina gasped and clung to his arm.

  The dragon floated low over the valley floor, its monstrous head shifting back and forth. Song could almost imagine it sniffed for him, like a dog on the trail of a hare. Suddenly, the serpentine body bent over itself, twisting in midair, and with a sharp snap of its wings it shot heavenward, out of view over the top of the mountain.

  Only then did Song draw a breath. His strength melted away and he oozed to the floor of the cave. He had seen the dragon!

  And there was no way he and Karina could leave the valley without the dragon spotting them. Already afternoon was merging into evening. The west side of Kamiratan was dulled with shadows, and the yellowing sun gilt the faces of the Kindoli to the east. Surely Grandfather was home by now, but how was Song going to join him?

  Karina squeezed his arm. “Look!” she whispered.

  Following her finger, Song caught a glimpse of a girl emerging from a path at the edge of the valley. She strolled gracefully toward the pool in the middle of the meadow, heedless of the danger. With his belly full of dread, Song watched her bend at the water’s edge.

  Then he saw a tiny shadow form on the grass beside her.

  “Go back!” he screamed. “Take cover in the woods!”

  The girl jumped up, startled by the cry, and searched frantically for its source. “Who is there?”

  Song sprang to the end of the ledge, waving recklessly. “Get away from here! Beware the dragon!”

  She saw him then. “What did you say?” Her voice distorted in the distance that separated them. “I can’t understand you.”

  “Dragon! The dragon!” He pointed in the air.

  The girl looked skyward, her hand up to shield her eyes. Suddenly, her body went as rigid as an oak plank.

  Song glanced up also, even though he knew what he would see. The dragon was lower now, its shadow larger on the valley floor. “Get out of here, girl!” he cried.

  But she remained rooted to the ground.

  Song watched the dragon twist again, writhing snakelike and then stretching its body into a dive. It had seen her!

  Chapter 11

  Without thought, Song flung himself down the waterfall trail, bounding over ledges until he reached the level ground beside the pool. Then shrieking like an angry wind, he careened through the meadow grass.

  As the girl’s figure loomed closer and closer, time seemed to slow. He stumbled and fell, catching a whirling glimpse of the dragon closing the distance above their heads. He pushed himself to his feet and found he still held the wooden box. He rushed on, driven by pure instinct.

  He could see the girl clearly now. It was Lord Dolisu’s daughter, escaped again from the manor. She was leaning forward, her arms raised toward the dragon, her face not terrified but expectant!

  He reached her at the same moment as the dragon. Just as the monster’s clutching claws opened to grasp her, Song flung himself between them. With a surge of adrenaline, he screamed, throwing up his arm and thrusting Grandfather’s box like a shield before the dragon’s face.

  The dragon shrieked with rage and snapped its billowing wings. It hovered overhead, twisting its triangular head back and forth, glaring at one child and then the other. Song could see the monster’s overlapping scales. He could smell its rancid breath and feel the red heat of anger behind its slitted eyes. But the box protected him from the seeping chill. He held his arm stiff, each beat of his heart sounding like a gong in his own ears.

  With a mighty flap and another screech of outrage, the monster beat its way back to the mountain’s heights.

  The girl crumpled on the ground like a doll whose support had been snatched away. Song gave her no time to collect herself. Grabbing her by the arm, he yanked her to her feet. “Come on!” he demanded. “It could come back!”

  He hauled her up the steep path just as he had hauled Karina, dragging her to the mouth of the cave and shoving her inside. She stood panting, her cheeks flushed with color, her eyes sparkling like diamonds. She looked—thrilled!

  “Are you crazy?” Song burst out. “Did you want the dragon to eat you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  A wave of exhaustion overtook him and he collapsed in a heap on the cave floor. The shock of his actions was wearing off, and his body began to shake so violently he could hardly sit upright.

  Karina went to the girl and draped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You are safe now,” she murmured. “The dragon is gone.”

  But the girl brushed her off and went to stand in the doorway of the cave, her shining eyes searching the heavens.

  “Why didn’t you run?” Song asked her.

  The girl ignored him. She remained a long time in the doorway.

  Karina knelt beside Song. “Are you hurt?”

  “I do not think so,” he panted. “Just shook up.”

  Her eyes shone admiringly in her scarred face. “That was a very brave thing you did.”

  “Foolish,” he corrected.

  “How did you know?” Karina asked with a significant glance at the box in his hand.

  Song stole a quick peek at Lord Dolisu’s daughter, who still scanned the sky, and hid the box behind his back. “I didn’t. I simply reacted.”

  They looked at each other, both realizing the importance of the discovery.

  “You must speak with your grandfather when you get home, Song.”

  He heaved a weary sigh. “I know.”

  They sat in silence, watching the waterfall catch the light of evening and project its colors onto the cave wall. And they waited, none of them exactly sure what it was they waited for.

  At some point Song must have slept, for when he awakened, it was fully dark.

  “I heard something,” Karina whispered, sitting stiffly upright.

  Song strained his ears, listening for any sound in the darkness. For long moments, the air was dead silent. Then he heard it, too, an indistinct voice wavering across the valley below.

  Lord Dolisu’s daughter lifted her head from where she slumped against the wall near the cave’s mouth.

  The sound came again, stronger.

  “It sounds like someone calling,” Song said.

  “It’s my father,” the girl said, jumping to her feet to peer into the darkness.

  Other voices joined the first, now clearly repeating a name over and over. “Nori! Nori!”

  “Here!” she yelled into the night. “I am here!”

  Now torches could be seen flickering among the trees and pouring out into the meadow, their light reflecting off the pool’s still water.

  “I’ll help you to the valley floor,” Song offe
red, but she had already skipped over the ledge to join her rescuers. He watched her climb nimbly down the cliff face. Soon her shadow merged with the crowd of armed troops. She would be safe.

  He picked up the wooden box. He and Karina would be, too.

  Grandfather was waiting up beside a small fire. Song dragged himself across the clearing, forcing his hand to hold the box in plain view, and stopped opposite the old man.

  Mutely, Grandfather observed the heirloom. His eyes traveled to Song’s battered face and furrowed brow, and he waited for the boy to speak.

  Song fidgeted. Facing the dragon had been easier than this.

  “I took it,” he finally blurted, “the day you forgot to lock the chest. I found it, and I took it, and I’m sorry.”

  Grandfather looked long into Song’s eyes, his gaze unwavering beneath bristly, gray brows. “You are forgiven.”

  Relief flooded Song. But the age-old weariness that now seemed to characterize Grandfather stole over the old man’s features. “You were wrong…but perhaps I was, too. Perhaps I should have shown it to you before now.”

  Song’s apprehension instantly morphed into eagerness. Dropping to his knees beside the fire, he studied the box in the light. “Can you tell me where it came from?”

  “It was your father’s.”

  Song sat back, stunned. In all his speculations, he never once considered his father. “Where did he get it?”

  But Grandfather had picked up the handle of his staff and was muttering to it. “The boy is still so young—so young. How is an old man to know what to do?”

  “Grandfather, it repels the dragon.”

  The old man cut off his murmurings. “How did you learn of this?”

  “Today in Mamuri Valley.”

  Starting with the day he found the box in the chest, Song explained everything that had happened, ending with the rescue of Lord Dolisu’s daughter.

  “I thrust the box in the dragon’s face out of pure instinct,” he concluded, “and the dragon flew away up the mountain.”

  Grandfather considered his words for many minutes. “I am glad, then, that you had the protection of the box, but you should not have left the hut. You have been lucky. In the future you must do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand? You must not take any more chances. Promise me!” he said with sudden intensity.

  “All right, I promise.”

  The old man relaxed. “It is far more important than you realize.”

  “You are still keeping something from me,” Song prompted, but Grandfather’s eyes had grown vague as he stared into the fire.

  “At least tell me where my father got the box,” the boy insisted.

  “It was passed down from his father.”

  “It used to be yours, then?”

  For just a moment, the man looked up, startled. Then his eyes resumed their preoccupied stare. “Yes, I suppose it has belonged to me.”

  “But where did it come from? I mean, where does it get its powers?”

  Grandfather was quiet for such a long time, Song thought perhaps he had dozed off, as he sometimes did in the warmth of a blaze. When he finally spoke, his voice seemed to rise out of the flames.

  “It was made from the limb of the Guardian Tree.”

  Chapter 12

  Despite his fatigue, Song could not sleep for the questions swirling in his head. Could it be true? Were Grandfather’s stories all true? Had he really descended from Zumari, the first man Mutan had fashioned with a touch of his hand? But Zumari must have countless descendants. Out of such a multitude, how had the priceless heirloom passed to him?

  He had asked that very question of Grandfather, but the man would say no more.

  The sun traveled high in the sky before Song awoke the next morning. Feeling refreshed, he worked for several hours in and around the forest clearing. But Grandfather, whose hands were seldom idle, lounged in the shade of the chestnut tree.

  “Have you solved the riddle, Grandfather?” Song asked, coming to sit beside him.

  The old man looked up. “Riddle? What riddle?”

  Song smiled. “The one written in the bark of the chestnut. You have spent three hours staring into it.”

  Grandfather relaxed and chuckled. “I am expecting visitors today.”

  “But you sent for help only three days ago. That is hardly time enough to travel from the nearest villages, even if you sent word by the swiftest runners.”

  “I did not send a runner. They will come.”

  The old man did rouse himself to prepare the noon meal, but afterward settled again into his chosen place, keeping watch over the village path. He was, therefore, the first to spot their visitor.

  But it was not an expected guest. It was Asito, Lord Dolisu’s captain.

  The man took in every detail of the clearing in one sweeping glance before bowing in front of Grandfather. “Life and good fortune to you, Honored One.” He clasped his sword hilt in salute. “My master requests the presence of your grandson this afternoon.”

  “Then it is he, not I, you must speak with. He is there, in the garden.”

  Asito planted his feet just outside the tilled earth and called to Song. “The manor echoes this day with rumors of you. Will you come? My master is most eager to speak with you.”

  Song knew it was not a choice. No one refused Lord Dolisu. His hands began to sweat. “I will come.”

  He leaned the hoe against the hut, and Grandfather rose stiffly to his feet. “If you would wait only a moment,” he asked of Asito, “I will pack a small meal for the boy.”

  “He will be well-tended,” the soldier countered.

  Grandfather bowed. “Please extend my gratitude for your master’s generosity. Even so, the boy has worked hard, barely stopping for a morsel at noon. I will fetch him something to give him strength.”

  Asito nodded, and the old man shuffled into the hut. He returned with a hemp bag that he thrust into Song’s hands.

  Puzzled, for his noon meal had been both relaxing and sustaining, Song peered inside. The parcel contained a small loaf, some dried jujubes—and his father’s box.

  Wisely, Song pulled out the bread to eat on his walk and tied the bundle around his waist, keeping the box discreetly hidden against the folds of his tunic.

  During the walk to the manor, Song’s thoughts kept pace with his steps. Lord Dolisu would wish to speak about the events in the valley, but his daughter was so unpredictable. She had been spellbound by the dragon and seemed distracted after her rescue. He feared to recall the words he had yelled at her in the heat of excitement. What had she told her father?

  Passing into the manor was twice as frightening without the reassuring presence of his grandfather. The splendor of its furnishings seemed to emphasize the plainness of Song’s simple tunic and bare feet. He did not belong here among these great ones.

  Without expression, Asito showed Song into an empty room and closed the door behind him. The room, though small, was hung with two beautiful silk paintings, and the corner opposite the door held a large porcelain vase.

  The door opened and a stately, heavyset man entered wearing a robe of liquid silk. Though he had never met him, Song had no doubt this was the wealthy lord. He bowed over shaking knees. “Long life and good fortune, sir.”

  Lord Dolisu placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Please stand, my friend. According to my daughter’s story, it is I who should bow in gratitude to you.” He pulled Song to his feet.

  Lord Dolisu’s daughter had followed him into the room. “Nori,” her rescuers had called her. She stood now at her father’s side, gracing Song with the full favor of her smile.

  Song felt his cheeks grow warm.

  Nori, he thought to himself. Beauty. The name fit her perfectly.

  “Is it true then, that you saved my daughter from the dragon?” the lord asked.

  Song tore his eyes away from Nori, but he could not bring himself to look the great man in the face. Instead, his eyes rested at the tip of the
man’s long beard, which he addressed. “I—I just pulled her away. I did not—” He stopped in confusion and stared at his feet.

  Amusement crept into the voice of Lord Dolisu, though it was not unkind. “It is as I have been told then, Grandson of the Bard. Such a great service does not go unnoticed. In token of my deep gratitude, please accept this.”

  He removed a golden chain from his own neck and placed it around Song’s. From it dangled a bright, round charm studded with tiny rubies.

  “This emblem is embossed with my family seal. May it remind you how my family is forever indebted to you for your bravery. It is justly earned.”

  Song fingered the delicate seal. On it was a tiny star surrounded by the curved blade of a sickle. The unaccustomed weight, though slight, felt heavy around his neck. Proudly, he let the seal rest against his chest.

  “Unfortunately, I am called away to settle a dispute among my officers, but my daughter wishes to offer you her own appreciation. She has arranged a meal.” He gestured to a low table set with porcelain dishes and two thick cushions placed on the floor on either side of it. “Please, be seated and I will send in the servants.”

  Before he opened the door, Lord Dolisu bowed low. “Thank you, Song Wei.”

  Nori took her place on one of the cushions. With another inviting smile, she gestured for Song to join her. He did so awkwardly, but she took no notice. She acted neither aloof, as in the cave, nor snobbish, as at the river and the fountain.

  “You were terribly brave yesterday,” Nori complimented him. “When I saw that monster swooping out of the sky, I was so frightened I could not move. I was completely frozen. But you ran down the mountain screaming like someone out of your grandfather’s stories. The next thing I realized, we were in that cave.”

  Song listened as one entranced. She was lovelier than the mountain in full bloom. He felt lowly and bumbling beside her, but at the same time, his skin tingled with her lavish praise.

  The servants began to file in with platters of food.