Shen cut in. “Brenda, we were going to talk to all the Orphans later today, but we were trying to get enough information together that we could anticipate most of the questions.”
“I’m not surprised,” Pearl said, “that Gaheris found out. We haven’t exactly been keeping this a secret. I am a little surprised he spoke to you.”
“I think,” Brenda admitted, “I pissed him off.”
“You told him about your plans not to go back to USC.”
“Yeah.” Brenda fell silent, then visibly shook herself. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Pearl nodded. “Here’s the short version. In Chinese cosmology, the underlying supports of the universe are the Twelve Earthly Branches and the Ten Heavenly Stems. Righteous Drum’s conjecture that the Earthly Branches were severely weakened when the Orphans retained their affiliation when they were exiled from the Lands has been confirmed.”
“Are you sure?” Brenda said. “I mean I’ve gotten to sort of like Righteous Drum—Honey Dream, too—but that doesn’t mean they don’t have an agenda of their own.”
“They’re not the only ones saying this,” Shen said. “Their faction was overthrown fairly soon after Righteous Drum brought Honey Dream and Flying Claw to our world. Li Szu learned of Righteous Drum’s theories and immediately set a group of scholars to work researching the problem. Those are the people you saw leaving here just now. I’m not going to go through everything they told us, because much of it was nearly too esoteric for me. . . .”
“And would be completely over my head,” Brenda said good-naturedly. “That’s fine. So you’ve decided to cave in, that the good of the Lands means more than your own good? What’s this going to do to you?”
Pearl smiled dryly. “First, we haven’t ‘caved,’ as you put it. We’re still discussing the matter. However, we cannot ignore that something our ancestors did has severely harmed this universe. Moreover, it’s likely that as long as the Lands remain in a weakened condition, they’re going to be vulnerable to further invasion. We’re not sure, but it seems likely that Li Szu had allies, allies who have made themselves scarce, but who know about this weakness, and who may attempt to exploit it again.”
“I remember,” Brenda said, “what Waking Lizard said, and later how Thorn and Twentyseven-Ten and them said that the captain who led their attempt on us a few months ago wasn’t someone they knew. Okay. Still, it doesn’t seem right that you guys should give up so much, something that you’ve fought so hard to keep.”
“Sometimes,” Pearl said, trying hard to hide how much the idea of renouncing the Tiger distressed her, “life isn’t fair. That’s just the way it is.”
“There’s only one answer,” Loyal Wind heard himself saying as Shen and Pearl finished briefing them on the situation regarding the Earthly Branches, the Lands, and the Exiles’ role in what had caused this corruption of their place of birth.
Loyal Wind thought that especially Pearl and Shen tended to forget how intimately the five former ghosts were involved in the situation. After all, except for Nine Ducks, all of them had reincarnated so that they appeared younger than the Orphans’ Tiger and Dragon. That made it easy to overlook that when Pearl and Shen spoke of choices the “Exiles” had made, that five among the number they addressed were, in fact, those very Exiles.
Loyal Wind didn’t think they overlooked this consciously, but emotionally, separating the five people who had become their allies—even their friends—from those distant and revered Exiles whose adventures had been the stories told to them in their childhood.
But the Exiles and we “ghosts” are one and the same, Loyal Wind thought, even as he continued to speak.
“The Exiles did the damage. The Exiles must take the first steps to repair that damage. We five should give up our affiliation to the Earthly Branches and accept what ever occurs as a result of this.”
His statement met with nods of agreement from the other four Exiles. Copper Gong’s crisp nod indicated that Loyal Wind had anticipated what she had been about to suggest herself.
“A good beginning,” agreed Nine Ducks. The Ox sat upright in her padded chair, but still looked far from her usually robust self. “I remember how we all laughed over our cleverness—over how we were going to trick those who had thought to render us inconsequential. Now, with the passage of years and evidence of what happened to the Lands through our actions, what we did seems less clever than petty. I agree with Loyal Wind. It is our place to begin setting things right.”
The meeting had been restricted to the Thirteen Orphans alone. Deborah still did not trust her health, and so had not been able to come, but Nissa had returned via the Gate. Now Gaheris Morris—something tight around his eyes indicating that he’d probably come to this gathering straight from another argument with Brenda—spoke.
“Noble suggestion,” Gaheris said, a dryness to his tone indicating that he wasn’t thrilled that Loyal Wind had capitulated so quickly. Clearly Gaheris had been planning to argue against any relinquishment of the Branches. “Let’s say—and my willingness to speculate doesn’t indicate I agree that this is the best course of action—we do as Loyal Wind suggests and do our best to break our affiliation with our Branches. How do we go about it?”
Shen Kung said, “I’ve consulted with Righteous Drum. The spell he worked out—the one that separated the Branch from the holder—should still work.”
Loyal Wind noticed that Shen looked rather uncomfortable as he said this, nor did he wonder why. Shen had been among those whom Righteous Drum had successfully attacked, and the end result had been such vague behavior that his wife and son had been led to believe that Shen was suffering from some form of senile dementia.
Pearl also looked less than happy, but she expanded on what Shen had said with the same courage that she’d shown in her battles with Thundering Heaven.
“Righteous Drum also says that he thinks he can adapt the spell so that it will not remove memories—or at least not as completely. We’ve spoken with various sages, and they think that it might be possible for each of us to retain a small sliver of our affiliation, just enough for us to continue much as we were.”
“ ‘Much as,’ ” Gaheris Morris echoed caustically. “I spent over three decades of my life studying to be the Rat. I’m not sure I like the idea of my reward for hours of study and more hours of practice boiling down to ‘Thanks a bunch. G oback to selling key chains and inflatable novelty items. We don’t need you anymore.’ ”
Albert, who, as Loyal Wind understood the situation, had devoted even more of his life to the Orphans’ cause, who had, directly and indirectly, lost his father and grandfather to the strain of being the Cat, and whose mother was crippled as a side effect, showed little patience with Gaheris.
“What do you want, Gaheris? A medal? A statue? Naw. You wouldn’t want anything so noble. A bag of gold and a box of jewels would be more your speed.”
Gaheris lurched to his feet, but Riprap, the stiffness of his movements not reducing the power contained in his muscular body, rose and stepped between the two men.
“Grow up, Gaheris,” Riprap said in much the tone he would have used for the young men he coached, “and calm down. We’ve got a world at stake here—a universe at stake. We’ve got to do the right thing.”
“Why?” Gaheris Morris asked. “Why? This is the universe that threw our ancestors out, remember? Would someone remind me why we owe the Lands anything?”
Gentle Smoke, her delicate features shadowed with grey lines of pain, said softly, “We are those ancestors, Gaheris. At least we five . . .” She motioned with a hand on which the nails were broken and torn. “. . . are. You are correct. We were thrown out, but we never accepted that exile as permanent. We never disavowed our homeland. We left rather than do it considerable harm and hoped to someday return home.”
Des Lee said, his tone almost teasing, “As I see the situation, Gaheris, the Exiles are rather like people who cut down all the trees because they needed fie
lds for planting crops, and didn’t think about what removing the trees would do to the very soil they wanted to use.”
“Or,” Bent Bamboo said, clearly getting into the spirit of analogy, “people who dumped all their sewers into a river, never figuring that someday the river dragon would get fed up and refuse to clear the stuff out.”
Des grinned at the Monkey, but his gaze remained fixed on Gaheris’s face. “So, Gaheris, by your logic, just because a mistake was made, a mistake made through all the best intentions—”
“Well,” Copper Drum interrupted, “we were very, very angry. Blind with fury, if you must know the truth.”
“Okay.” Des waved her down. “But you had no idea that what you were doing would affect the very fabric of this universe. Therefore, a mistake was made. The larger consequences weren’t taken into account.” Des adjusted himself in his chair, winced slightly as some half-healed injury pulled, and went on. “Now we have the opportunity to correct what was done. Should we refuse to replant the trees or clean the river just because we personally weren’t the source of the problem?”
“Sorry, Des,” Gaheris said, “but your analogy—while doubtless accurate regarding what’s happening to the Lands—doesn’t answer my objection. As I see it, we’re more like Jews or Japanese after World War II. We were sent off to concentration camps. Now that the war is over we’re told, ‘Not only can’t you have any restitution for your lost property, or any compensation for the pain suffered by yourselves and your descendants, but . . .”
Gaheris paused, one finger held high in the air. “But would you also accept a radical lobotomy in return?”
His features softened so that he looked almost a boy again, his eyes wistful and pleading. “Look, I’m not happy about what you want to do because of how it might change me. I’ll admit that, but from what everyone tells me, I didn’t change too much when I was separated from the Rat. Albert apparently got a whole lot less uptight. I’m thinking about Shen and Pearl. They’ve given their entire lives to this farce. I can’t accept a situation that asks them to be rewarded for seventy-some years of faithful service by being mind-raped.”
That final word hung in the air, but Nine Ducks, who, from what Loyal Wind had been able to gather, had found the women’s ordeal particularly horrible, was the one who chose to break the uncomfortable silence.
“I understand, Gaheris, but your noble feelings on behalf of your old friends and teachers doesn’t change the fact that unless we do something, the Lands are going to continue to be threatened, and that through the Lands your own home may be vulnerable.”
“Nine Ducks raises an important additional consideration,” Pearl said. “Gaheris, do you want to go home and explain to the various indigenous magical traditions that the threat from the Lands isn’t ended, only maybe a little delayed? I assure you, old enemies and ones we don’t even know exist will shout for our power being hobbled—and they will be much less kind than Righteous Drum’s spell would be.”
Before Gaheris could speak, a new voice, one with an irreverent lilt that Loyal Wind had been told was typically Irish, broke in.
“I know I wasn’t invited,” said Parnell, walking through a wall and sliding through the crowded room to perch on the edge of the table, “but since this matter of the Land’s deterioration concerns me and mine, I’ve invited myself.”
A murmur—amazed, angered, annoyed—rose from a dozen throats.
Parnell raised a hand, stilling protests. “Wait. I’ve intruded because I’m hereto help. I’ve been listening politely to your deliberations, but I had to step in. You’re all too close to the problem. You’re missing an alternative that might answer all your difficulties—or at least minimize them. Loyal Wind and his associates among the reincarnated Exiles have agreed they must return what they stole, right?”
He waited until the five former ghosts had nodded.
“Then let us permit them to do the Lands that honor. Then why not reassess the situation? Perhaps their sacrifice will strengthen the Lands just enough to get by until—”
Parnell again interrupted himself to consult the five former ghosts. “Am I correct that you can undo the binding that you and your associates put on the Earthly Branches, the one that passes the Branch down a line of physical inheritance?”
They all nodded. Gentle Smoke looked as if she might be willing to elucidate the point, but Parnell continued his facile flow of words.
“Of course you can. That’s what you did when you needed to take over the five Earthly Branches from your less than faithful living kin. Well then, here’s what I suggest. You five ghosts do what you’ve already agreed to do. Give back what you have stolen. However, before you do take that step, recraft your original spell it so that at the death of the current holder, the remaining Earthly Branches return to the Lands, rather than getting passed down the line of inheritance.”
“It might work,” Bent Bamboo said, his big grin filling his face for the first time since they had been taken by Thundering Heaven. “Would returning five Branches shore up the weakness? Shen? Righteous Drum? You’re the students of magic. Do you think Parnell’s theory has any validity or is he just seducing us all with that agile tongue?”
“It’s possible it could work,” Shen said with the hesitance of one who sees a reprieve and doesn’t want to seem too eager to take it. “The deterioration happened over time. The return of almost half of what was taken should help a great deal. And as Parnell has suggested, we don’t need to go on theory alone. We can test after the five Earthly Branches have been—as you might put it—repatriated.”
“Realistically,” Pearl said with that unflinching courage Loyal Wind admired, “we can also accept that you and I, Shen, aren’t going to live much longer. It will be something of a miracle if we live another twenty years. Therefore, within twenty years—possibly much sooner—the Lands will regain two more Branches.”
Albert was nodding. “We’ll need to do some analysis, talk with Righteous Drum—”
“And others,” Gaheris cut in. He still didn’t look exactly happy, but he did look less unhappy. “Maybe even some folks at home. Righteous Drum has too much of a vested interest in the Lands for us to rely solely on him.”
“Fine, Righteous Drum and others,” Albert said, “but this could work.”
Nissa said a little sadly, “Then Lani won’t ever get to be the Rabbit, and she was so looking forward to it. Still, I agree. This seems like a good solution.”
Pearl leaned forward and patted Nissa’s hand. “Don’t worry, my dear. Lani already sees ghosts. I think you’re going to have your hands full with her, Rabbit or not.”
Pearl laughed, the sound bright with relief. “To think, before I met Flying Claw—Foster as he was—I sometimes wondered why the auguries would never give me a clear assessment as to who my heir would be. I thought this was because I refused to bear children, and so confused the Tiger’s path, but perhaps the Tiger’s eyes saw more options than I dared imagine.”
Brenda’s head was spinning as Nissa related what had gone on at the meeting.
Brenda had been thinking about herself—about how this meant she’d never be the Rat—when Nissa said softly: “Of course, what no one is saying flat out is that this means that soon the five Exiles are going to die all over again.”
“But why?” Then Brenda understood. “Yen-lo Wang only let them come back so they could fix things. I remember.”
Nissa nodded, not bothering to dab at the tear that trickled down her cheek. “What a reward for their courage—returning to life in order to be raped and tortured—and just when things are getting better, then they have to die? It’s not right.”
Brenda remembered what Pearl had said to her. “Sometimes things aren’t right or fair. That’s just the way it is.”
She shook herself. “And here I’ve been letting myself regret I’ll never be the Rat. What good did being the Rat do my dad or grandad or great-granddad? Maybe I’ll be the first in four generations t
o learn how to be less of a self-centered idiot. Are you going to tell Lani?”
“Later,” Nissa said. “We’re going to continue living with Pearl, what ever decision is made. Pearl seems to think that Lani is like you—that she has a few gifts that have nothing to do with affiliation with our Earthly Branch. That means she may need some training.”
“Does Pearl think you have any hidden gifts?” Brenda asked.
Nissa shook her head. “No. She, Shen, and Righteous Drum did some tests, and anyhow, Pearl knew my dad and granddad. It’s likely that Lani’s gifts come from her father’s side.”
Brenda wanted to ask about this mysterious never-mentioned man, but the expression in Nissa’s bright turquoise eyes all but dared her to do so. She decided that, for once, she could keep her mouth shut.
“When do you go back to Pearl’s?” Brenda asked instead.
“Pretty much immediately,” Nissa said. “I’ll be back for the final ceremony, of course. I wanted to fill you in first because the meeting wiped Des and Riprap out, and the five ‘ghosts’ are going to have too much on their minds. The others rushed off to start arrangements.”
And you knew my dad wouldn’t tell me, Brenda thought, or wouldn’t tell me everything. Or at least if he did he’d give it a spin of his own.
Aloud she said, “Let me walk you to the gate, then.”
As they walked, they talked about how they’d agreed to rearrange rooms at Pearl’s when Brenda moved in.
“You do still plan to come, right?” Nissa said.
“I do,” Brenda said firmly. “I may never be the Rat, but I’m not ready to go back to USC and pretend none of this happened. Maybe next year I’ll start my sophomore year all over, but right now . . .”
“Good!”
They hugged, and Nissa vanished to begin her journey back from this gate through the Nine Gates and home again.
Home, Brenda thought. I wonder where that is, now.
She didn’t have a chance to get morose or even philosophical. A male voice called out her name.
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