Ping wondered if the Yus had another daughter—a daughter they had been forced to sell because of the burden of so many girls.
“Heaven has blessed us though,” said Mr Yu proudly. “We have one son.”
A young boy stepped out of the shadows. Ping thought he looked about two years younger than her. He was very skinny.
“Here he is!” said Mr Yu indicating the boy as if he were a prize ox or a rare jewel.
Actually he was a most unremarkable boy. Ping thought that if he’d stood among twice-ten boys of the same age, she wouldn’t have been able to pick him out. Except for one thing. His hair was very short, too short to plait or tie in a knot. It hung about his ears and in a fringe over his forehead. He stood with his head bowed and fiddled with the belt tied around his frayed jacket.
Mrs Yu beamed at the boy and held out her hand for him to take. Her fingers were stiff and bony like birds’ claws. They were wrinkled like her daughters’, but in places the skin was peeling off to reveal red raw patches beneath—no doubt the result of spending years immersed in hot water. Mrs Yu couldn’t keep silent any longer.
“We have guessed the reason for your visit,” she said happily. “You have come for Jun!”
She smiled proudly at her son, while Mr Yu poured more wine, spilling some on Dong Fang Suo’s gown in his excitement. He poured a cup for the boy and handed it to him. The boy took the cup with his left hand. Mrs Yu glanced at the Imperial Magician to make sure that he had noticed. It was strange to see parents so pleased to have a left-handed child. Master Lan had told Ping what a curse it was to be left-handed and how she brought him nothing but bad luck because of it.
“You are aware that members of your family have held imperial office?” Dong Fang Suo asked.
“Yes, of course,” Mr Yu replied. “My grandfather held the position about thirty years ago. He was one of a long line of Yu men who had the job. He died unexpectedly while in office. I was only a small boy, but I remember the imperial minister coming to tell us that he’d had an accident. He tested my father and me to see if we had the right characteristics. Neither of us did. We have lived in poverty ever since.”
“Jun has the characteristics though,” Mrs Yu continued. “He uses his left hand—and he can predict things that are going to happen.”
Dong Fang Suo sat up straight. “He has second sight?”
Ping studied the boy’s face. She had thought she would know if she met a fellow Dragonkeeper. She had expected her second sight would leave her in no doubt, but she felt no connection to the boy at all.
“Yes,” said Mrs Yu proudly. “He knows when storms are coming. And he can tell whether an unborn baby will be a boy or a girl.”
Dong Fang Suo looked at the boy with interest.
“I’ve never heard of a Dragonkeeper having second sight before they come into contact with a dragon. Have you, Ping?”
Ping didn’t get a chance to answer.
“That’s how we knew you were coming to offer him the position of Imperial Dragonkeeper!” exclaimed Mr Yu.
“We have not come to offer him a position, I’m afraid,” the Imperial Magician said. “The position is already filled.”
Mr and Mrs Yu’s happiness melted like ice in hot water.
“Ping is the Imperial Dragonkeeper,” Dong Fang Suo said.
The couple looked at Ping for the first time.
“A girl?” Mr Yu sneered. “How can the Imperial Dragonkeeper be a girl?”
“Who can explain the ways of Heaven?” said Dong Fang Suo.
“But we were depending on it,” Mrs Yu said. “We paid the village elder a lot of money to teach Jun how to read and write. It kept him from his work in the orchard.”
“We were looking forward to him earning an imperial salary,” Mr Yu said. “My grandfather earned six sacks of grain and five rolls of cash every year.”
Mr Yu spoke as if this were a fortune, but it wasn’t a large sum. The gold coin in Ping’s pocket was worth more than that.
“Can’t you reconsider? Surely the Emperor would prefer a male Dragonkeeper,” pleaded Mrs Yu.
“Just a few years of this salary would save us,” Mr Yu continued. “It wouldn’t matter that we have no dowries for our other daughters. It wouldn’t matter if the mulberry leaves withered and died.”
Ping had been waiting for the right time to ask the question that was burning in her mind. She couldn’t wait any longer. Dong Fang Suo opened his mouth to say something else, but Ping spoke first.
“Have you seen this before?” she said and she pulled out the bamboo square that was hanging around her neck. Mr Yu held the character upside down as he stared at it. Ping knew it meant nothing to him.
He shook his head. “I have never seen it.”
It was no surprise to Ping. The first moment she had seen Mr and Mrs Yu, she had known deep down that they weren’t her parents. She also had a vague feeling that there was something Mr and Mrs Yu weren’t telling them. But this sensation was overwhelmed by her sadness. She hadn’t found her family.
“We would still like Jun to be trained,” Dong Fang Suo said, with a quick sideways look at Ping, “in case the position becomes vacant. You will be compensated for your son’s absence.”
The Imperial Magician pulled a gold coin from his pouch and gave it to Mr Yu. The couple brightened.
“Jun will come with us to Ming Yang Lodge …
A scream from outside the house interrupted the Imperial Magician. Ping knew that the little dragon would be the cause of all the fuss. Kai had been alone in the carriage for too long.
Ping followed the noise. It was coming from a tumbledown shed at the back of the Yu house. As she expected, Kai was there. And he was no longer in the shape of a jar. The three younger Yu girls were staring at the purple dragon. The littlest was screaming at the top of her voice. Kai had knocked some small terracotta jars from a shelf.
“Caterpillars,” he said, though the others only heard a sound like a cheerful melody played on a flute. “Kai smell caterpillars.”
“It’s all right,” Ping reassured them. “He won’t hurt you.” She patted the screaming girl on the back, trying to console her.
“I’m sorry he has broken these jars.”
She picked up several pieces of pottery. Kai was snuffling through the scattered contents—hundreds of tiny black balls.
“Kai, don’t!” Ping said.
She picked him up. Some of the tiny balls were stuck to his wet pink nose.
“I’m afraid he’s ruined your poppy seeds,” she said, brushing the balls off his nose.
“I don’t think they are poppy seeds, Ping,” said Dong Fang Suo. “I suspect they are silkworm eggs, saved for next season’s crop.”
“Oh,” said Ping trying to gather up the tiny eggs. Each egg would grow into a silkworm that would spin a long length of silk to form its cocoon. They were precious. “I’m so sorry.”
The little girl finally stopped screaming and settled into a sniffly cry.
Dong Fang Suo gave Mr Yu another gold coin.
Kai was wriggling in Ping’s arms. He stuck his talons in Ping’s arm. She let go of him with a shout of pain. Jun had just entered. Kai scurried over to him making high and happy flute sounds. The boy stared at Kai, but he wasn’t afraid of him. He reached out and touched the little dragon’s head.
Mr and Mrs Yu beamed with pleasure. Ping tried to smile too.
“It looks like we have found another Dragonkeeper candidate, Ping,” Dong Fang Suo said. “Our journey has been successful.”
“Kai like Boy,” said the little dragon.
Ping’s half-smile shrivelled like an autumn leaf. She felt a sensation she had never felt before. It took a while for her to put a name to it. It was jealousy.
• chapter twenty •
TWISTING SNAKE RAVINE
She scanned the rock surfaces, but there
was no ledge wide enough for anyone to
conceal themselves on the cliffs.
>
The horse was harnessed to the carriage before dawn. Dong Fang Suo had been anxious to return to Ming Yang Lodge as soon as possible. There were many things he had to attend to before the festival. He had spent an uncomfortable night, even though the village elder had insisted on giving up his own bed to such an important guest. Two of the guards had been despatched the night before with a message for the Emperor telling him of their success. If the Imperial Magician was aware of Ping’s low spirits, he showed no sign.
Despite the early hour, every inhabitant of Lu-lin was at the village gate jostling for a good view. Frightened children clung to their parents’ gowns or cried to be lifted up. They all wanted to catch a glimpse of the amazing creature that had suddenly materialised in their village.
Kai was aware of all the attention on him and growled and blew out clouds of mist.
Jun kissed his mother and sisters goodbye and climbed into the carriage. Mr Yu handed his son a worn silk scroll.
“You must continue your studies,” he said. “We will pray to Heaven that you are successful.” He gave Ping an unfriendly glance. “It’s your birthright.”
The boy nodded.
He waved to his family as they drove off. He leaned out of the carriage, watching them grow smaller and smaller until the miserable village of Lu-lin disappeared from view.
The carriage wasn’t built to carry three people and a fidgety dragon. Dong Fang Suo took up more space than Ping and the boy together. Kai soon grew bored. Unless they were travelling through heavily populated areas, Ping had given up trying to stop him from hanging out of the carriage. He clambered over them, treading on the boy’s scroll and the Imperial Magician’s stomach.
The sky was overcast and Dong Fang Suo predicted snow.
“I expect you have many questions,” he said to the boy, smiling broadly, “about dragons and their ways.”
Jun shook his head and tried to hide behind his fringe.
“About the Emperor and the imperial palace?” the Imperial Magician asked, his smile shrinking.
The boy shook his head again and concentrated on his scroll. Every few minutes he sighed deeply. It seemed he wasn’t as pleased as his parents about the change in his fortunes. Ping saw him wipe his eyes with his sleeve. He missed his family, even though they were poor. He’s lucky to have a family to miss, Ping thought bitterly to herself.
Half an hour later, the Imperial Magician tried again to engage the boy in conversation, but Jun’s head was bowed and he was silent.
Kai was hanging out of the carriage, trying to catch leaves that were falling from trees. Ping held on to his tail, just in case he leaned out too far.
As she watched the wet, empty fields roll past the carriage, Ping had plenty of time to think. She knew now that Mr and Mrs Yu were not her parents. If she was a true Dragonkeeper, it could only mean that the Huans were her family. But Minister Ji had said they were all dead. She would never find her family.
Kai was trying to get Jun to play with him. He hadn’t left his side since the moment he’d first seen him. He had insisted on sleeping at the foot of the boy’s bed—even though it was just a pile of straw in the shed.
The boy let out a cry of surprise. Ping looked round thinking Kai might have bitten him. But it was Hua who had caused his alarm. The rat had crawled out from under a cushion.
Dong Fang Suo chuckled. “That is Ping’s rat,” he said. “You don’t have any unpleasant pets do you? No snakes or spiders under your jacket?”
Ping stroked Hua. She hadn’t realised that the Imperial Magician didn’t like him.
She looked over at the scroll Jun was studying. It was covered with characters—hundreds of them. Ping recognised only a few. He was obviously a much better reader than she was.
Dong Fang Suo was signalling to her, raising one caterpillar eyebrow and jerking his head in Jun’s direction. He wanted her to talk to the boy. Ping didn’t feel like making polite conversation. She didn’t want to put him at his ease. She wished she’d never met him. She had imagined finding an assistant, someone to take her place if she was unwell, someone who would produce a future Dragonkeeper from among his children. She hadn’t expected to find a rival.
Dong Fang Suo was insistent. He kicked her in the shin. Ping couldn’t think of anything to talk about. She looked out of the window for inspiration. They were driving past a village surrounded by fields. Farmers were at their work. She noticed other children, boys and girls, with short hair like Jun’s. A few were completely bald.
“Is there some reason why you have your hair cut short?” she asked the boy. “Is it a local custom?”
The boy blushed.
Dong Fang Suo cleared his throat. “I think you’ll find, Ping,” he said with a nervous giggle, “that the children have had their hair shaved off to remove an infestation of head lice. Those with short hair, are still waiting for their hair to grow back.”
“Oh,” said Ping. “When I was at Huangling I had lice, but Master Lan made me rub a foul-smelling ointment in my hair.”
Dong Fang Suo glared at Ping. “That would be beyond the means of most peasants.”
Ping had hated the stinging ointment. She hadn’t realised it was a luxury.
Ping didn’t make any other attempts at conversation. She watched the boy’s fingers run quickly down the columns of characters on his scroll. She was glad she had forgotten to bring the calfskin on which she had written the few characters that she had learned. Even though she’d had plenty of free time to study, Ping had found learning to read difficult. This boy had learned to read between his chores in the mulberry orchards.
Kai was excited that Jun was travelling with them.
“Boy, play ball,” he said, dropping his goatskin ball on Jun’s scroll and nudging his arm with his nose.
Jun tried to ignore him, but eventually gave in to Kai’s persistence. He threw the ball to the dragon, again and again. Kai tossed it back enthusiastically. The boy had much more patience than Ping for playing games, but even he grew tired of it eventually.
“That’s enough for now, Kai,” the Imperial Magician said. “Give Jun a rest.”
The little dragon’s spines drooped. He made low, unhappy sounds.
“Later?”
Jun patted the dragon on the head. “I’ll play with you again later.”
Ping stared at the boy. “Could you understand what Kai said?”
Jun nodded and buried his head in his scroll again.
Ping was shocked. She had been caring for Kai for six months before she could understand his sounds. Jun had been in his presence for less than a day. Her dislike for the boy was growing.
“The Emperor will be very pleased we’ve found you,” Dong Fang Suo said. “If you pass the tests, you will require some training.”
Ping wondered what tests and training he had in mind. She had never undergone any tests and the only training she’d had was from Danzi.
“I’ll play with you, Kai,” Ping said, holding out her hand for the ball.
Kai snatched up the ball and dropped it in Jun’s lap.
“No,” he said firmly. “Kai play with boy … later.”
Ping’s jealousy festered like an unclean cut.
The next day Jun still had his head bent over his scroll.
“What is written on your scroll?” Dong Fang Suo asked.
He held it up for the Imperial Magician to see.
“It’s all the characters I’ve learned,” the boy replied. “Arranged in small poems and stories to help me remember them.” It was the first time he’d said more than five words together.
“You have done well to learn so many characters.”
“Our village elder was a government official when he was younger. He taught me to read and write.”
“Ping has been learning to read, but she doesn’t know half so many characters.”
Ping stared out through the shutters. She didn’t need to be reminded of her ignorance.
Towards the end of the
second day, Jun finally ventured a question of his own.
“Are there other dragons in the world, sir?” he asked Dong Fang Suo.
The Imperial Magician seemed very pleased with this question.
“There are occasional reports of dragon sightings on the edges of the Empire far from human settlement,” he replied enthusiastically. “They could be merely tales told by travellers to impress their listeners, but I think there are other dragons … somewhere.”
“Wild dragons?”
“I believe so, living in the wilderness, I don’t know where.” Dong Fang Suo smiled at the boy. “I can see you are already thinking like a Dragonkeeper.”
Ping seethed.
They stayed that night at an inn. Ping was glad to have a room to herself. The previous night they had stopped at a military garrison. Dong Fang Suo had been given a room in the officers’ quarters, but Ping had had to sleep in the stable with Kai, the horse … and Jun. She had been looking forward to a good night’s sleep on a comfortable mattress.
Very late at night, or perhaps very early in the morning, she was wide awake immediately, as if woken by a loud noise. But the only sound was someone talking in a low voice in the courtyard. She couldn’t hear what was being said.
Kai had wriggled around so that his tail and his back feet were against her face. She got up to turn him around again. Then she went to the doorway. Dong Fang Suo was in the courtyard. He was whispering urgently to a messenger who was standing next to a steaming horse. The messenger mounted his horse and rode off. Dong Fang Suo stayed in the courtyard, staring down at his lumpy feet.
“Whatever His Imperial Majesty commands,” Ping heard him say to himself.
She went back to bed, but she couldn’t get back to sleep.
There was something odd about the Imperial Magician the next day that Ping couldn’t put her finger on. He was unusually quiet and made no mention of the messenger in the night. He didn’t try to get Jun to talk again either. Ping didn’t mind the silence. She had quite enough conversation with the dragon’s endless questions.
Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon Page 16