by Henry Lien
It’s true. His sinus bone was so sensitive to the coiling water dragons that he could tell what direction the creature was coming from during the Eastern Heaven Dining Hall attack, even without seeing it.
“He’s right, Peasprout,” says Doi.
“I’m with Wing Girl,” says Hisashi. “We need Crick.”
Ten thousand years of stomach gas.
* * *
We’re on the sea, rowing in the liquid darkness searching for coiling water dragons.
We decided it would be safest not to wear skates, in case we have to swim. It’s a strange sensation to be blindfolded, sightless, with no pearl beneath our skates and no skates on our feet, led by nothing but sound.
An unexpected flurry of wind rises, and suddenly, I feel something slithering against my neck.
“What was that?” I cry.
“What happened?” says Doi.
“Something just flew past my neck!”
“What kind of something?”
“Long! Like a snake! But against my neck! And hairy!”
I hear Doi clambering over toward me. She pats my neck, my shoulders, my hair. She examines my hair with her fingers. And laughs.
“It’s nothing to worry about. Your braid just came undone.”
Why are all three of them laughing? I really don’t see what’s so funny.
Hisashi says, “Oh, I’m so glad that you did that and not I.”
The prow of the gondola scrapes against something. I scramble to the front and reach my hand out. My fingers brush a hard surface. A wall rises out of the water. Its surface is uneven, as if covered in carvings.
The wall enclosing the Conservatory of Architecture.
We row to navigate around it as Cricket keeps one hand on the perimeter of the wall.
“I’ll tell you when we reach the back of the Conservatory,” Cricket says. “I can calculate from the curve of the wall.”
We really did need Cricket to come with us. I still don’t feel comfortable with it, though.
He says, “We’re halfway to the back side of the Conservatory … ah—”
“Cricket, what is it?” I reach out and grip his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he says, although I can sense from his Chi that he’s feeling pain.
“I think the dragons are awake, but still far.” He turns to Doi and Hisashi. “Keep rowing.”
Somewhere to the front and the right, we hear a noise. Doi and Hisashi stop rowing.
“Do you hear that?” I ask.
“Yes,” they both reply.
We listen to the sound again—a rhythm of little slaps hitting the surface of the water.
“It sounds like a giant spider scuttling across the sea,” says Hisashi.
“It’s going in a line straight behind the Conservatory of Architecture,” says Cricket. “Follow it.”
“Not too close!” I say to Doi and Hisashi.
We steer toward the sound as it grows fainter across the water. Something stirs in the water beneath us.
“There’s something below us!” I say.
The sound continues moving, then whatever is making the noise is joined by another creature. And another. And another.
“I think they’re circling us!” I cry.
“They’re too small to be coiling water dragons,” says Doi.
“Maybe it’s the dragons’ young,” answers Hisashi.
“What do their young feed on?” asks Cricket.
“Hold on to something,” I say. “I’m going to touch the water and try to—”
“No!” yells Cricket. “Don’t touch their young! The adults are so protective of them!”
Something grazes the gondola as it passes underneath.
“It’s touching us!” I gasp.
The thing surfaces on the other side and hisses a puff of exhalation and spray that dots my face. I hear a chattering noise. Almost playful.
I know that sound!
More blowholes puff air and water around us.
“It’s just dolphins!” I say. “Ten thousand years of stomach gas. Oh, go away, dolphins! We need to concentrate.”
When the dolphins see that we have no intention of playing with them, they swim off. We continue on toward the direction from which we heard the sound like a spider scuttling on water.
Something gently strikes the prow of the gondola.
“What was that?” I say.
I hear it continue to bump against the side of the gondola, thumping rhythmically.
I reach out and touch it.
A skate.
I wave my hand over it. Then under it. Then all around it.
Nothing suspending it, nothing lifting it.
It’s just floating there, above the sea.
What under heaven is this?
I run my fingers over it and feel engraved into the boot some logograms. “It says Ong and Song.” The skate that Hisashi threw into the sea during the First Annexation. Now it’s floating here above the sea, defying natural law.
“It’s Ong Hong-Gee’s skate,” I say slowly.
“Oh, please let me have it, Peasprout,” says Hisashi. “I want to give it back to him.”
I hand him the skate and hear him rustling and tying it under his inner robe.
Far ahead, we hear a hollow rush, as of water coursing.
“Do you hear that?” asks Doi. “It sounds like a river.”
“Yes, but it has an echo,” answers Cricket.
“How can something on the sea have an echo?” I say. “There’s nothing for the sound to bounce off.”
“Do you think it’s the coiling water dragons?” asks Hisashi. “Maybe they use echoes the way dolphins and whales use the echoes from clicks and whistles?”
“I hope not,” says Cricket.
“Why?” I ask.
He replies, “Because dolphins and whales use those echoes to hunt their prey.”
“Dragons don’t eat people,” I say. “They’re benevolent. Usually. Don’t they eat, I don’t know, typhoons or things like—”
A slamming sound thunders from across the water.
“Something’s moving toward us!” I cry.
A great rush of force sweeps over us, like something bursting across the dark sea, rocking our gondola so hard that my socks are planted in water.
Cricket lets out a sharp cry of pain and I hear him clap his hands to his nose.
Then the unforgettable whining roar of a coiling water dragon thunders in the air around us.
“Hisashi,” I command. “Hydrate the pavilion!”
I hear a plop and a pop as Hisashi tosses the trinket onto the water and it expands to a full-size pavilion. I hear him tap the rhythm code into the side of the structure. The pavilion begins to shudder and hum. There is a sucking sound as its door spasms wide open.
“You three get in the pavilion,” I order. “Keep it from rolling, and keep the entrance open above the water for me. I’m going to try to hail the coiling water dragon when it gets near.”
I feel the weight shift as Doi, Hisashi, and Cricket clamber into the pavilion bobbing in the water.
The gondola begins to tremble with the bellow of the coiling water dragon. The metallic hum and the atmospheric change make my teeth sing with sourness. I crouch and grab on to the two sides of the gondola to brace myself. The rumble and scream quickly rise in pitch and force until it feels like my bones are shaking and—
“Peasprout!” cries Cricket. “Get inside! It’s approaching too quickly!”
“I have to try to hail—”
“It’s almost here! Get in!”
I scramble into the pavilion.
Hisashi taps out a complex rhythm code, then a wet, gelatinous slap sounds above us as the entrance to the pavilion puckers closed.
As we huddle inside, the sound of the coiling water dragon is muffled but quickly rises and rises.
“Ahh,” moans Cricket.
“Cricket! Are you all right?”
“Peaspr
out, it hurts!”
I reach out in front of me. I touch Cricket’s hands clamped on his face and my hand comes away wet.
I can’t see it from under this blindfold in this lightless chamber, but I know that my fingers are covered in blood.
“Cricket!”
But he can’t hear over the screeching thunder of the coiling water dragon as it collides into us.
We are thrown together to one side of the pavilion as the coiling water dragon flings our pavilion through the air.
Then we go weightless as the pavilion begins to plummet.
We hit hard on something solid, and we hear the sound dwindle as the coiling water dragon retreats.
“Open the portal!” I say to Hisashi.
He drums the rhythm code into the structure, but nothing happens.
“It’s damaged!” he says. “It won’t open!”
“All right,” I say. “Everybody stay calm. We’re safe for now. First, Cricket, how is your nose?”
“The bleeding’s stopped.”
“Where’s the coiling water dragon?”
“It’s not here.”
“Are we on the Conservatory of Architecture?”
“I don’t think so. It didn’t throw us back that far.”
“Then what are we on?”
“Something else.”
“Out in the middle of the sea?”
“We must be on top of the one-walled palace.”
“Peasprout,” says Cricket, “we have to get out of this pavilion, or we have to get the pavilion off of this structure. Immediately.”
“Why?”
“We’re not touching water.”
The pavilion around us moans like great timbers creaking against one another.
It’s not touching water, which means the pavilion is drying out again. It’s already beginning to shrink around us.
“Hisashi! Get us out of here!”
Hisashi furiously pounds the rhythm code again and again. I hear the space where the portal should be. It’s spasming and trying to open, but it stays closed.
“Peasprout, it’s really stuck,” he says.
The roof above gives a squeal, then pops as it buckles close enough to touch with my outstretched hand.
“It’s going to crush us!” says Doi. “We have to cut the door open!”
“We don’t have skates!” I say.
“Wing Girl, mirror flying iron fist triple jump?”
“There’s not enough room in here to gather sufficient momentum. Especially without our skates.”
“Let’s try anyway.”
Cricket and I press against the side of the pavilion. I hear Doi and Hisashi move to one side of the structure, then launch forward in a synchronized move that lands in two blows on the portal surface.
“Ahh!” cries Doi.
“Holy venerable mother of…” cries Hisashi as I hear him whipping his hand about in the dark.
The pavilion groans and, with a snap, collapses farther, shoving us toward the center.
“Peasprout,” says Cricket. “There’s only one thing we can do.”
“What?”
“We have to rock the pavilion into the water to stop it from shrinking.”
“Then how are we going to get out? What if the pavilion sinks?”
“I don’t know.”
I’m the captain of this battleband. I have to decide quickly.
“It should float because it’s sealed,” I reason. “And we can then try to roll it back to the academy. Let’s do it.”
Cricket says, “The pavilion is round and as tall as it is wide across.”
Doi says, “Yes, so if we all do standing leaps—”
Hisashi cuts in. “And strike the side at the top at the same time—”
Cricket finishes, “We’ll tip it over onto its side and rock it into the sea!”
“All right. Ready? Lucky, three, two, one, leap!”
We leap at the same time and punch the top of the circular wall of the pavilion.
The impact sends the structure toppling onto its side.
We are suddenly falling.
We hit the surface of the sea.
The pavilion pops back out to its full size.
Water immediately begins to spray in at us from all sides.
“The pavilion’s cracked!” I cry. “We have to roll it to the academy before we sink below the surface.”
“Peasprout,” says Cricket. “We’ve already sunk below the surface. We were too heavy for the air in here to keep us afloat with the leaks.”
How am I going to get us out of here?
I’m their captain.
Everyone waits for me to come up with something in silence and darkness. The water continues trickling in around us, pooling at our feet.
At last, the pavilion thuds.
We’ve hit the bottom of the sea.
“Ahh,” says Cricket. “Peasprout, it really hurts down here. It really … it really…” His words trail off as he tries to stifle the sob bubbling up in them.
I can’t fail him. It’s up to me to keep him safe. I’m his sister and his battleband leader.
“We have to get this portal open!” says Doi.
“No,” says Cricket. “We’re so far below the surface, we wouldn’t be able to swim up in time before our breath ran out. Plus, as soon as we opened the portal, the sudden change in pressure from the weight of the water this far down would kill us.”
“Which way is the academy?” I ask. “Can we roll it back to campus and then try to cry for help?”
“We’re too far,” he says. “We’ll never make it there before the water in here drowns us.”
The water streaming in from the leaks is up to our shins now.
Cricket suddenly exhales as if punched in the belly.
A great moan surrounds us, lower than before due to the muffling of the water above, but unmistakable as the roar of the coiling water dragon.
“It’s down here with us!” says Doi.
“We’ve angered it,” says Hisashi. “Brace yourself.”
“Ahh, it hurts!” cries Cricket, and I hear him slap his hands to his nose again. “It’s coming! It’s coming back for us!”
“We need to roll out of its path!” yells Doi over the growling rumble.
“It’s going to fling us again!” says Hisashi.
“No,” says Cricket. “It’s all right, its path is veering away.”
Then it comes to me.
I yell over the roar around us, “Cricket, which direction is it in?”
“It’s swimming back and forth to the left of us.”
“Everybody!” I order. “Roll the pavilion to the left!”
“What do you mean—”
“That’s an order! Do it!”
We all stride on the round wall of the pavilion. It begins to wheel to the left.
After just eight steps, we feel a stunning rush of motion as the coiling water dragon seizes us.
We’re pressed to the wall beneath our feet as we’re ripped through story upon story of water.
Then, once we break the surface of the water, we shoot even faster as we whip through the air.
We toss over and over one another as the pavilion is flung through empty space.
I send up prayers to the Enlightened One and hope that we are flying in the right—
Suddenly we’re bouncing over a surface. A hard surface. We rattle and spin as the pavilion rolls. Its speed causes it to tip upright, and we are no longer rolling but skidding until we collide into something.
We break apart in a spray of pieces of pavilion.
I slide across the pearl until my back slams into something.
I tear off my blindfold. It’s the statue of the Enlightened One soaring into the night sky above me.
We’re back on the campus. On Divinity’s Lap.
I stand up and scream, “Cricket!” I don’t care if prefect patrols hear us.
Across the court, a figure stands up in
the moonlight and lifts a hand.
“I’m unharmed,” shouts Cricket.
“Doi! Hisashi!”
To the left, two figures silvered by the night stand and call back, “We’re all right. Not so loud!”
I listen to hear if the coiling water dragon followed to continue punishing us for entering the sea. But the only sound I discern is the gentle slap of waves against the edge of the Principal Island.
I look around us at the sweet, sweet sight of Divinity’s Lap, made of solid pearl. I fall to my knees, bow down, and kiss it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
I glide across Divinity’s Lap to Cricket and cup his chin in my hand. I try to wipe the blood from his nose and mouth, but I just smear it more.
“It’s all right, Peasprout. It’s stopped.”
Doi and Hisashi join us.
“Look at him!” I say to them. “Look what I did to him!”
“Peasprout, it’s not your fault,” Cricket whispers.
“Of course it is!” I cry. “I take you blindfolded onto the sea against clear orders from the senseis, who had very good reasons. I make us chase after a monster and get us mauled and nearly crushed, then drowned, then whipped through the air. We could have died!”
I turn to Hisashi and Doi. “What am I doing, leading you? I took Cricket right back to the thing that’s most dangerous to him, something that makes him bleed just by coming near. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no right to be your leader. Make Doi your captain. Make anyone—”
I stop speaking as I see Cricket’s eyes flutter. He staggers, then slumps into my arms.
* * *
The first thing that Doctor Dio asks me after she revives Cricket at the Hall of Benevolent Healing is “Has this boy been exposed to ivory yin salts?”
Why is she asking about ivory yin salts? Cricket took them because they were the only way to keep his body lithe and limber enough to do girls’ wu liu moves, which were the only moves taught in Shin. I don’t know if I should answer. I wish Doi and Hisashi didn’t have to wait outside. At last I say, “Yes.”
“Well, there we have it. It interferes with the development of the heart and lungs, which manifests in sensitivity of the sinus bone. Was your village in Shin near an ore mine?”
“No,” I say.
“Then how under heaven did he get exposed to ivory yin salts? Don’t the authorities in your country know how toxic they are?”
