Treasures of the Twelve

by Cindy Lin

  Rana lined up the metal arrow tips on a tray to dry, then brought them over to Inu. He accepted them with a brief smile. “Thanks, Snake Girl.” Looking proud, she skipped off to look for the other Heirlings.

  With a frown of concentration, Inu picked up an arrowhead with a pair of feedsticks and examined it. He glanced up at Usagi. “Want to help me with these?” He touched the base of the metal cone to a dish of glue, preparing to attach it to a bamboo shaft.

  Usagi eyed the poisoned cones. Having experienced the effects of Rana’s venom, she was in no hurry to come in contact with it again. But she was the Rabbit Heir. She shouldn’t be afraid of anything. And they had the Apothecary besides. Not for the first time, Usagi thanked the gods that she’d managed to nab it before they escaped the Palace of the Clouds. Amid poisonings, various winter colds, several injuries, and even the ache of growing pains when Goru had become several heads taller and quite a bit wider after arriving on Mount Jade, the contents of the pillbox had gotten them through many rough moments.

  She scooted closer to Inu and took up an arrow shaft and a pair of feedsticks. Copying everything Inu did, Usagi used the feedsticks to pick up an arrow tip, dip its base in a dish of glue, and slide it into the hollowed end of the arrow shaft. He handed her a small rag to wipe off excess glue. As they worked, Usagi longed to raise her concerns about Tora. “Do you believe that if you want something badly enough, it will happen? Or is wishing just a way to avoid facing reality?”

  The Dog Heir inspected the arrow in his hand. “The Tigress liked to say, ‘Weave a net instead of just praying for fish.’ If there’s something you want, you don’t just wish for it—you work for it. Because no one gets everything that they want.” He looked up with a sardonic smile. “Not even the Blue Dragon. Why do you ask?”

  She told him how Tora had been having dreams, seeking out the Mirror of Elsewhere to find answers, and insisting on ideas she couldn’t prove. “I’m a little worried about her, to be honest.”

  “Hmm.” He tossed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. “You know, right before the mission to Port Wingbow, Tora told me that she’d had a dream of seeing the Pen of Truth flying through the air. Neither of us knew what to make of it at the time, but you can’t say it didn’t come true. What if her tiger vision has expanded since coming to Mount Jade?”

  Usagi stopped in the middle of wiping glue off an arrow. “Expanded? You mean she can see not just in the dark but into the future?”

  “It’s possible.” Inu plucked the arrow out of her hands and checked it, then secured the arrowhead more firmly into the shaft before putting it aside to dry with the others. “It’s a talent not many possess—but there were Warriors in the past who had visions and premonitions.”

  Pondering the possibilities, Usagi reached for her rabbit pendant and rubbed it. If Tora could see into the future, what would that mean? Would she be able to predict what would happen to them? What if it were something bad? Would they want to know?

  Kaa-oh . . .

  Ka-ohh ka-ohh, ka-ohh ka-ohh . . .

  Usagi’s head snapped at the sound of a seagull. “What in the name of the Twelve . . . ?” She jumped up and stared into the sky.

  “What are you hearing?” asked Inu.

  As she put a hand over her eyes to shade them, Usagi’s ears remained pricked. “A bird. But one that’s far from where it’s supposed to be.”

  Inu scratched his head, baffled. Then his nostrils flared. “Fish. A fish eater. Is that what I think it is?”

  The white-and-black form of a seagull appeared, soaring gracefully above them. Usagi waved, and the seagull wheeled about before descending. It came into the courtyard, its wings held aloft, and landed on the platform, flapping as it stepped to a halt. It turned and looked at Usagi with a piercing yellow eye and held out its leg. There was a small scroll tied to it.

  “I think this is Neko! Or Nabi—I’m not sure which.” Usagi shrugged. “Sorry, bird.” She removed the scroll from the proffered leg and began to unroll it.

  “Who?” asked Inu. He stared at the bird, bewildered. “What?”

  Usagi laughed. “Remember the youngling from Port Wingbow we brought to Yunja? The Fire Rooster? She had a couple of pet seagulls, and this is one of them.” Scanning the scroll, Usagi smiled. “It’s Neko, with a message from Yunja. He says that Ji’s doing well, and that he’s got her and the other younglings at Sun Moon Lake working on a project they’re very excited about. They want us to visit.”

  “Flying featherbombs,” muttered Inu. “A seagull at the shrine. This has got to be a first.”

  Reaching out a tentative hand, Usagi stroked the seagull’s back. “I wonder if Neko will take a message back for us.”

  “It couldn’t hurt to try,” said Inu. He pulled out a scrap of paper and a slate pencil from his belt. “What do you want to say?”

  Usagi chewed her bottom lip, thinking. “Let’s just say that we’ll come visit as soon as we can, so they know Neko did her job.” She smiled at the bird. “A seagull certainly beats any of the messenger pigeons that the Dragonlord uses.”

  Rolling up the paper slip, Inu handed it to Usagi with a flourish. “They’re definitely a lot bigger. Imagine having a whole flock.”

  “I just wish one of us could speak bird. I don’t suppose birds understand your dog-speak?” Usagi asked. As Inu snorted and shook his head, Usagi tied the note onto the seagull’s leg. “You must be tired, Neko,” she cooed. “There’s a lake just through those trees, and it’s full of fish. Think you can find it?” The seagull took a few steps around the platform and stretched out the leg with the replying note, as if testing it. Then it took off, circling around them once before flying off in the direction of the lake.

  “Looks like it understood you just fine,” said Inu. “Or at least scented the water.”

  Usagi rolled up Yunja’s message scroll. “I’m going to go find Tora—she’ll be happy to know about Ji.”

  Trotting off, Usagi kept her ears pricked for signs of her friend. She hadn’t seen Tora all morning. As she wound through the trees that surrounded the shrine compound, she could hear Goru and Nezu working on the new training course by the lake.

  “Is that a seagull?” observed Goru. “What’s one doing up on Mount Jade?”

  Usagi smiled. Wait till they found out exactly where the gull had come from. She heard Saru join Inu in the courtyard, and him telling the Monkey Heir about the message from Ji and Yunja.

  “Maybe we should check on them soon,” mused Saru.

  “After we’ve secured the missing Treasures, we’ll go,” agreed Inu. “I’m curious to see how the younglings’ powers are developing.”

  Inu’s remark about Tora’s expanding powers came back to Usagi. Her friend had seemed so certain about her father. Was it because of tiger vision—a new kind?

  What if Tora was right? If Tora’s father was alive, then perhaps Usagi’s was too. It was a hope that Usagi had buried under layers of purpose and distraction. There were missions to train for, Treasures to recover, Heirlings to help. The notion that perhaps her parents might still be alive—that remained locked in a corner of her heart. If she allowed the key to turn, the door to open, then everything behind it might overtake her, and there was no telling what would happen then.

  She was nearing the Tree of Elements, an ancient cypress in a rocky grotto not far from the compound. The roaring crackle of an eternal flame, burning over a trickle of water flowing from the rock, tickled Usagi’s ears. She stopped and caught another sound—two people, silent but for the whisper of their breath.

  Usagi quickened her step. Approaching the hollow that sheltered the tree, she saw both Tora and Rana sitting quietly beside the fiery spring, their eyes closed. The bent and twisted tree, its trunk warty with chunks of ironstone buried in the wood, was propped on a sturdy log like an old man and hovered protectively over both girls. Their legs were tucked beneath them and their hands were folded in their laps as they practiced mind-the-mind, allowing thei
r thoughts to settle while breathing deeply and evenly. It was rude to interrupt someone while they were in mind-the-mind, so Usagi sat down beside them and closed her eyes as well.

  Inhaling slowly, she counted to six, then exhaled, counting to six. After breathing and counting for several rounds, she felt herself becoming calm, less troubled. Whatever was happening with Tora and her tiger vision, with her dreams of her lost family, was not something that Usagi could control. And if Usagi’s parents were truly still alive, she would find a way to help them—and her sister too. She wasn’t giving up on any of them, even if she had to tamp down her hopes and fears at times. The words of the Tigress came to her. Usagi could almost hear the old warrior’s croak, offering her guidance as always. “Do not let uncertainty bar the way. Steer your boat in the right direction, and the streams of time and destiny will carry you through.”

  At last, she opened her eyes, and found both Tora and Rana smiling at her. Usagi smiled back, relieved that Tora didn’t seem to be upset anymore. “I have good news—Ji sent one of her seagulls here with a message.” She held up the scroll and let it unfurl. “She’s doing well.”

  “Gracious gods! That’s good to hear.” Tora took the scroll from Usagi and examined it.

  “Have you been here all morning?” asked Usagi.

  Tora shook her head. “I was in the library, looking through the Compendium of Recorded Talents and Gifts. I was trying to find out if all my dreams and hallucinations could be linked to anything.” She handed back Ji’s message.

  “I mentioned it to Inu, actually, and he seemed to think that your tiger talents are expanding,” said Usagi.

  “Really?” Tora brightened. “The compendium did say that tiger vision could include being able to see into the future.”

  Rana coiled a loose braid, pinning it in place. “How wonderful! If you could tell us what was going to happen, we’d always be prepared. Better off than any foe. Can you imagine? Nothing and no one could ever surprise us!”

  “I don’t know for sure if that’s what’s going on,” said Tora. “Besides, are surprises so terrible?” She got up, putting a hand on the Tree of Elements to steady herself. Upon touching the gnarled trunk, she stiffened. Her legs crumpled and she collapsed. Her amber eyes turned white, as if they’d rolled back in her head. Rana cried out.

  “Tora? Tora!” Usagi had never seen her friend like this. She grabbed Tora’s arm, trying to pull it away from the tree, but it was stuck fast. She couldn’t tell if it was because the tree had a hold on Tora, or if it was the other way around. Usagi had tried before to communicate with the Tree of Elements and had never had any luck. But she didn’t know what else to do. She placed her free hand on the tree’s trunk, the other grasping Tora’s arm, and desperately felt for the tree’s life force, hoping to connect with it. Please, she begged. Let my friend go.

  “What do we do?” Frantic, Rana shook Tora. “Wake up!” She dipped her hand in the spring, dodging the flames that shot from the crack in the rock, and splashed water on Tora’s face. But Tora remained still, her eyes wide and white.

  Usagi stopped her. “Please, let me talk to the tree.” She searched for a vibrating hum that in ordinary trees she found right away. At last she detected what seemed like a thready pulse. Silently she implored the ancient tree for help. Please don’t hurt her. She’s to be the next Tiger Heir.

  With a whispering sigh and a groaning creak, a piece of ironstone fell from the trunk. It bounced off Usagi and landed on Tora. Tora’s hand came off the tree and she blinked, her eyes returning to normal.

  “What . . . just happened?” She sat up, assisted by Rana, who wiped Tora’s face.

  Usagi picked up the ironstone, which had tumbled to the ground. “You went somewhere else when you touched the tree, and seemed trapped. When I asked the tree to help, it dropped one of its ironstones—and then you came to.” The stone, striped red, gold, and black, was weighty and rough in her palm. It felt warm, almost alive.

  With trembling fingers, Tora touched the stone. “I saw something. Not about . . . what we talked about earlier,” she said, glancing at Rana. “But something about the Ring of Obscurity. I can’t quite understand it, but I saw a giant butterfly, and it was guarding the ring.”

  Usagi gaped. “We’re going to Woodwing to look for the ring, and we’ve talked about how it’s near Butterfly Kingdom. Maybe that planted an idea—”

  Unconvinced, Tora shook her head. She looked at the Tree of Elements and bit her lip. “Forget what I said about surprises.”

  Chapter 10

  Butterfly Kingdom

  “RING MISSION, ON THE HUNT!” bellowed Goru. The trees around them quaked as he charged ahead. Tora laughed and sprinted after him, her travel pack bouncing on her back. They shifted into spirit speed and were quickly gone.

  Inu raised an eyebrow at Usagi. “You said you all practiced stealth techniques while Saru and I were away.”

  “We did,” Usagi said, grinning. “I didn’t say that everyone did perfectly.” She stifled a giggle. “He’s going to alert the whole of Woodwing if he keeps that up.”

  More than two weeks had passed since the four of them had left Mount Jade to track down one of the two remaining lost Treasures. They had just left the town where the very last Tiger Warrior and his Heir had made their final stand, fighting to protect the townspeople against a battalion of invaders from the empire of Waya. Parts of Woodwing were still in ruins, and some of the Wayani soldiers had never left, becoming Guard for the Dragonlord and keeping order for him in Flower Song Province, once renowned for its perfumes and the kingdom’s finest incense.

  In the guise of day laborers from a neighboring village, Inu and Tora had made discreet inquiries in the town, while Usagi used her rabbit hearing to see if their questions had shaken loose any talk by the locals about the Ring of Obscurity. They made sure to steer clear of the Guard, not wanting to be questioned or suspected of having zodiac powers. Goru’s sheer size drew a lot of notice, but the townspeople instantly took a liking to him. He used his strength to help people carry heavy loads, shore up fallen walls, put up buildings, and corral unruly animals.

  His helpfulness soon paid off. The townspeople gave Goru warnings so that he could duck out of sight whenever a Guard patrol came through. And then, he returned with a new bit of information.

  “Everyone tells me it’s been impossible to enter Butterfly Kingdom these last seven years,” he reported. “They swear that valley is haunted by the ghosts of the dead, and that their spirits have become butterflies.” Goru gave a disbelieving chuckle. “These ghosts will attack when you enter the valley. Doesn’t that seem odd?”

  “Sounds like they’re warning us away from that place. I doubt there are actual butterfly ghosts, but . . . maybe the butterflies are protecting something,” said Tora. “I had a vision back at the shrine that an enormous butterfly was guarding the ring.”

  Usagi nodded. “There could be a connection.”

  Armed with that hope, they’d quietly left Woodwing and headed for the long rift valley that cleaved the southeastern part of the island. Insects of all kinds were found there, including fireflies, moths, and winged beetles, but especially butterflies of all shapes and sizes, which gave the valley its name.

  Though Butterfly Kingdom was a fair distance from even Woodwing, which was the nearest town and an hour away on horseback, it was famous enough that in the days before the war, people used to travel a well-worn track to see the butterflies. Now that they’d left the town, Goru felt free to run along the old route with abandon, and after a while, Usagi and Inu joined in.

  Their path became choked with wild growth, and they slowed to a walk. As they picked their way through riotous weeds and creeping vines, Usagi could see the rift walls rising up on either side of them into steep hills, cradling a long flat expanse that was the valley. And everywhere they looked, there was movement.

  The trees and bushes seemed to dance with fluttering wings and flashes of jewel-like color. C
louds of purple and yellow filled the air, swirling past them like windblown flower petals as they ventured farther. The shrill drone of cicadas echoed off the valley walls, buzzing in Usagi’s ears.

  “Spirits,” Goru exclaimed. He chortled as a dozen cream-colored butterflies settled on his shaved head, looking like a pulsating feathery hat. “If this is an attack, it’s more of a tickle attack than anything else.” He gently brushed a hand over his scalp, shooing them away.

  Tora gazed about, entranced. She slipped her arm into Usagi’s. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”

  Nodding, Usagi clutched her friend’s arm. Her chest felt light and she couldn’t stop staring. It was all so wondrous. If only her sister could see this place. Uma used to love chasing after butterflies—until she developed horse speed and became too fast for the fluttering insects. But now that the Dragonlord had her, had she become too hardened to appreciate these delicate winged beauties?

  Usagi turned to Inu. “I’ve only read about the Ring of Obscurity and looked at drawings, but you’ve actually seen a Warrior wearing it. What should we be looking for?”

  “It’s been years since I’ve seen it,” Inu said. Thinking, he ran a hand through his shaggy hair, displacing an errant butterfly. “It’s got a huge amber stone . . . surrounded by carved mother-of-pearl. I remember there was tortoiseshell on the band.” He held up his thumb ring. “It’s a lot bigger than this archer’s ring. I got thumped with it quite a few times when I was misbehaving during lessons with Master Pom.”

  Tora snickered. “There were paintings of it at the Dragon Academy too. They made us memorize what it looked like and what it could do, but it didn’t include thumping naughty Warrior Heirs.”