Dragonkeeper 4: Blood Brothers

by Carole Wilkinson

  Fo Tu Deng ignored Tao’s hint and gazed at the site of his temple again.

  “A temple is needed in this unholy place if decent people are ever going to feel safe enough to return and rebuild the city. It is hard to believe that there were once more than forty temples in Luoyang. I was in the process of building another on this very site when the nomads invaded and reduced the city to a ruin twelve years ago.”

  “My family lived over on Golden Pheasant Street. I can only just remember it.”

  Fo Tu Deng looked at Tao again. “Ah, you are from a noble family. I see that in your expression. All the cultured people fled Luoyang, and who can blame them? But Buddha has sent me a vision of the city restored to its former magnificence. My temple will be the beginning of its rebirth. The barbarians will be driven out, and the rich and noble will return.” He gestured for Tao to stand up. “You can stay with us tonight.”

  “Thank you, Your Holiness.”

  Other yellow-robed monks were preparing for an evening recitation. They struck small bells with little hammers in perfect unison, producing sweet chimes that were more impressive than if a single larger bell had rung. Incense was burning in bronze bowls, filling the air with the smell of cypress forests. Tao put his bowl in his bag and his hand brushed the purple stone. His fingers traced its well-known curves.

  “I don’t think this is a good place for a temple.” The words had popped into his mind without him thinking them. And, he realised, he’d spoken them aloud.

  Kai, who had been standing silently in his monk shape, made an anxious sound.

  “I have received a holy vision,” Fo Tu Deng said angrily. “I have seen the temple as it will be. I understand now why your abbot has sent you on this pointless journey. It is to learn some humility.”

  The monk turned sharply and marched into the pagoda. Tao wished he could start again with the famous monk and make a better impression.

  People were beginning to gather outside the pagoda, drawn by the fragrant incense smoke and the hypnotic sound of the bells.

  The monks began their recitation, punctuating the verses of the sutra with chimes from their bells.

  Hearing the sound of the bell, all thinking is stopped.

  Wisdom grows; enlightenment appears; hell is left behind.

  “There is more incense burning at this moment than we burn at Yinmi Monastery in an entire year,” Tao whispered as he surveyed the growing crowd, the people craning their necks expectantly. “At least half the population of Luoyang must be gathered here.”

  If Kai was impressed, he didn’t show it. He was shrinking away from anyone who stood near him, as if he didn’t want them to touch him.

  Fo Tu Deng emerged from the pagoda with a small gold statue held over his head. Whether by accident or by careful planning, the statue caught a ray from the setting sun, reflecting a flash of blinding yellow light.

  “Behold, the golden Buddha,” Fo Tu Deng intoned.

  Tao felt a shiver travel down the length of his spine.

  “It’s a statue of the Buddha,” he whispered to Kai. “I’ve never seen an image of the Blessed One before.”

  The statue was no more than half a foot high, and Tao pushed through the crowd to get a better view. The Buddha was seated cross-legged, hair tied in a knot on the top of his head, a serene expression on his face, his right hand resting on his left palm, thumbs touching. The chanting grew louder. The bell ringing increased in speed, then stopped, leaving a sudden silence. Expectation tingled in the air like the promise of a thunderstorm. The hairs on Tao’s arms stood up. He had never before experienced the Buddha’s presence so strongly.

  Fo Tu Deng placed the golden Buddha on a brocade cushion. The monks struck their bells again. One of the followers stepped forwards carrying a bronze bowl and a slender pottery jar. He kneeled in front of Fo Tu Deng. The last rays of the sun lit up the holy man’s yellow robes as he poured a thin stream of water into the bowl until it was almost full. He intoned something in Sanskrit. Tao understood only two words, but it sounded very holy. The monk waved his hand over the bowl as he recited. There was a flash of flame, a puff of smoke. The crowd gasped, and there on the surface of the water was a beautiful blue lotus. Fo Tu Deng gently scooped the flower into his cupped hands and held it up for the crowd to see.

  The people didn’t seem sure of how to respond to such a wonder. Some applauded, some fell to their knees and recited fragments of the sutras they had heard, or muttered prayers as they had for their old religions. The woman standing next to Tao had tears shining in her eyes. “It’s a miracle,” she whispered.

  “We pay homage to the Holy One, the Shining One, the Blessed One,” the monks chanted.

  Some people cried out. “We pay homage to the Blessed One.”

  Fo Tu Deng placed the blue lotus on the cushion next to the statue of the Buddha. He picked up the cushion and carried it back into the pagoda. The other monks followed him, ringing their bells and holding the bowls of incense in their hands. The people turned to go back to their impoverished lives.

  Kai, still in his monk form, was standing next to Tao. A low rumbling was issuing from the dragon’s throat. His monk image started to waver slightly, but everyone was focused on Fo Tu Deng, so Tao was the only one who noticed. Kai might not have been able to speak, but Tao could tell that he didn’t like the monk from Tianzhu.

  As the crowd dispersed, a man stumbled on a broken flagstone. He reached out to steady himself. Kai tried to move away, but the man clasped his arm. A surprised look crossed his face and then the man collapsed. People gathered around, thinking he had been overcome by the religious experience.

  “What happened?” Tao whispered. “Did you do that?”

  Kai made a miserable sound.

  “Is he dead?”

  The monk-shaped dragon shook his head.

  “Will he wake up again?”

  Kai drew characters in the dirt.

  “Seven days?”

  Kai guided him away, leaving the man to the attentions of his friends. Tao glanced back at the unconscious man, glad that touching the dragon didn’t have the same effect on him.

  When everyone had left and night had fallen, Fo Tu Deng’s followers served food to the monks. The great man himself accepted a bowl filled to the brim with cooked grain and what looked like chicken. Fo Tu Deng saw Tao’s shocked face.

  “It is not possible in this unholy place to live exactly as the Buddha wished. He could never have imagined the conditions in these barbarian lands.” The monk picked up a large piece of chicken from his bowl and popped it into his mouth. “We do what we can to adhere to his laws, but sadly we must be content with a lower standard.”

  The monks ate their food and disappeared into the pagoda to sleep, which Tao thought was rather disrespectful, since it was a shrine to house Buddha relics. Tao and Kai were not invited to enter. As soon as they were gone, Kai transformed into his true shape, which was the only way he could eat. He sat in the shadow of the city wall and ate his grain and chicken, licking out the bowl when he’d finished. Tao had accepted only a small bowl of grain. He was hungry, but he covered the bowl with his straining cloth.

  “I’ll eat mine in the morning.”

  Chapter Seven

  FIRE

  Tao woke just before dawn. Since Fo Tu Deng had not offered him a bed, he had constructed a makeshift tent from a flap of the oiled cloth that protected the piles of wood propped up with sticks. Since Kai hadn’t been able to dig a hole in the temple area, he had decided to sleep under the cloth with Tao. Tao hoped that the darkness and his outer robe would conceal him should anyone pass by in the night. Sleeping with a dragon was not a comfortable experience. Kai took up a lot of room and he snored loudly.

  The line of deep pink on the horizon held the promise of a fine day. Tao looked forward to spending the next night on his monk’s pallet, not on damp ground, with dragon scales sticking into him. He wanted to get an early start so he would be back at Yinmi Monastery before n
ightfall. He was hungry. He looked around for the bowl of food that the monks had given him the night before. His straining cloth was tossed aside and there was no sign of the bowl. Tao pulled his own alms bowl from his bag. It was empty.

  “Our food has gone!”

  Kai had a big appetite. Tao wondered if he had gotten hungry during the night.

  The dragon stirred and yawned. His breath smelled terrible.

  Tao felt around in his bag again. His stomach did a somersault. “My stone is missing as well! Someone has stolen my purple stone.”

  He no longer felt hungry, just furious. He turned to Kai. “Did you take it?”

  The dragon growled deep in his throat and flicked his tail angrily.

  Tao searched in vain among the stacks of wood and the piles of rubble, then slumped down.

  “Fo Tu Deng was right. The people of Luoyang are nothing but thieves and bandits.”

  He didn’t care about the food. He could walk back to the monastery on an empty stomach. He didn’t mind if he got into trouble when he went back to his monastery. The abbot must have known all along that the journey was futile, and wouldn’t be surprised if he returned without any alms. But the loss of the purple stone was harder to bear. He’d had the stone for years. It was the one thing he never misplaced. There had to be a reason why he had lost it for the second time in just a few days. It didn’t take him long to realise what it was: he desired to own the stone. He would pay for that mistake by accumulating bad karma.

  “I’m sorry I accused you, Kai,” he said. “It’s my own fault. A novice should have nothing but the Five Possessions. I wanted to own the purple stone. I didn’t even want to share it with the other monks. I must learn to desire nothing.”

  The brilliant pink sky to the east mocked Tao with its cheerfulness.

  “I thought it was going to be a good day. I hope nothing else goes wrong.”

  The words had only just left his mouth when he heard thunder.

  “Sounds like there’s a storm coming,” Tao said. “I’ll be walking back to Yinmi in the rain.”

  The thunder didn’t die away. In fact, it was growing steadily louder, and there were no clouds in the sky. Bright flares of orange broke off from the dawn glow and arced across the sky. Something was approaching and it was much worse than a rainstorm.

  Kai made the sound of scraping metal, which Tao had learned meant the dragon was anxious, perhaps even afraid. He took on his monk shape.

  The thunder was the sound of galloping horses. The orange flares were flaming arrows streaking through the air from nomad soldiers’ bows. Through a gap in the wall Tao could see horsemen, several hundred of them, galloping towards the city. The men wore leather helmets and armour. Some horses were draped in armour too. Their pennants depicted a rearing horse.

  The monks stumbled out of the pagoda where they had been sleeping.

  “Nomads!” one of them shouted.

  A burning arrow landed on the pagoda roof, burying its point in the new wooden shingles. The flame died. Nomads on foot spilled into the city through the East Sunlight Gate, whooping and shouting. The inhabitants of Luoyang were running in all directions or cowering in their houses. The city was under attack.

  The pagoda roof suddenly blossomed into flames. Tao watched in fascinated horror. Unseen, the fire had spread beneath the roof and was now sprouting along its length. Fo Tu Deng ran out of the pagoda wearing nothing but his under-robe. His outer robes were flung over one shoulder. The golden statue of Buddha was clasped to his naked chest. He had something clamped under his arm. Tao couldn’t see what it was. Fo Tu Deng looked around like a scared rabbit. When he saw the nomad horses leaping through the gap in the wall, he let out a plaintive wail and ran for his life. His monks followed him.

  Tao couldn’t understand why anyone would want to capture a ruined city. The pagoda was now fully alight, the fire greedily consuming the wood. He snatched up his bag and started to run as well, but then he realised that Kai wasn’t following him. The dragon was staring at the fire, motionless.

  “Kai, don’t just stand there. We have to get away!”

  The oil-soaked cloth covering the wood caught fire and soon the stacks of dry wood were also ablaze. The air was thick with smoke. If the nomads had attacked the day before, the houses would have been too wet to burn, but after a day of hot sun, the makeshift wooden houses had dried out and were soon blazing. As the burning arrows fell on the city, flames sprang up everywhere. Tao and Kai were surrounded by fire.

  Kai made a sound like someone banging copper bowls together. It was a terrible sound – hollow and without hope. Tao grasped the dragon’s foreleg and tried to get him to move.

  “Kai, we will be burned to death. Hurry!”

  But it was as if the dragon’s feet were stuck in drying mud. He wouldn’t move. Tao looked around in panic, his eyes stinging, his throat raw from the smoke. There was nowhere to go. He couldn’t see a way through the wall of flames.

  A muffled voice came out of the smoke. “Get down. Crawl.”

  Strong hands pulled Tao to the ground. Through the smoke, he could just make out a crouching figure, a head wrapped in a length of cloth.

  “Follow me.”

  Tao turned and grabbed one of the dragon’s whiskers. He pulled it hard, wincing at the thought of the pain it would cause.

  “Kai, you must come.”

  The dragon moved slowly. Tao yanked the whisker with both hands as hard as he could and then crawled after the dim figure before it disappeared into the smoke. His eyes and throat were burning. The heat of the flames was red-hot on his face. Tao had never experienced fire like this before. He had watched Luoyang burn from the safe distance of his family’s country house. His family had waited for the fire to subside before returning to the city to find their home a pile of ashes.

  On his hands and knees, Tao followed the figure wearing the headscarf along a stone gutter constructed to channel rainwater. It was two or three blocks high and gave some protection from the flames. The heat was burning his unprotected scalp and the back of his neck. He looked over his shoulder. He could see no sign of Kai.

  The figure in front suddenly dropped out of sight. Tao felt the hands drag him down. He fell headfirst down a shaft. Darkness replaced the smoke and flames. He landed heavily in a cistern full of water. It hurt. He didn’t mind. It was a relief to be away from the flames. He wanted to lie there in the water and rejoice that he wasn’t being burned alive, but his rescuer had other ideas, shouting at him to get moving. Tao stumbled forward and ran into a damp earth wall.

  “This way.”

  He was yanked sideways and dragged by his robes along some sort of underground passage.

  Tao followed the sound of the voice along the tunnel. He didn’t know if Kai was behind him. They came to a narrow doorway that opened into a cool, dark room with stone walls. Falling at the feet of his unknown saviour, he rasped words of thanks that hurt his throat. In the dim light he could just make out a pair of elegant slippers decorated with embroidery and pearls. Wan light seeped in from a slatted air vent near the ceiling. He looked up, but his eyes were sore and watering, so the figure in front of him was a blur. Hands unwound the headscarf and dark hair tumbled onto slender shoulders. The figure came into focus. Tao pulled his hands away from the feet as if he had touched hot coals.

  Blue eyes glared at him. They belonged to a girl.

  Chapter Eight

  FINDERS KEEPERS

  The girl’s mouth was pressed shut as if she were trying to suppress a smile, but her eyes were cold.

  Tao glanced around anxiously. “I’m not supposed to be alone with a female,” he said.

  “Sorry,” the girl said. “I should have left you in the flames to cook.”

  “No, I’m grateful that you saved us, but I have to leave immediately.”

  “Us? If there was someone else here you wouldn’t be alone with me would you?”

  Tao looked around again, panicked. “Where’s Kai? I h
ave to go back and get him.”

  “If he’s still out there, he’s dead,” the girl said in a flat voice without a trace of emotion.

  She took a bag from her shoulder.

  “But he might be too big to fit in that underground passage,” Tao said. “He might get stuck.”

  “Serves him right. Anyone who has enough food to get fat in this place is making other people go hungry.”

  “He’s not fat, he’s –”

  Tao was interrupted when a large green head poked through the narrow doorway. There was a lot of grunting as Kai squeezed through and collapsed on the floor. The girl’s cool and confident smirk disappeared, and it was her turn to gape in stunned silence.

  Tao went over to the dragon. “Kai, are you all right?”

  His mane was smoking and almost burned away, his whiskers were singed and the scales along his back were scorched black.

  The dragon sat up and made a weary tinkling sound. His head grazed the ceiling. The girl recovered her composure, and lit a lamp.

  “So this is your large companion.” There was a tremor in her voice. “Does he bite?”

  Tao smiled. “Not if you’re nice to him.”

  The girl poured water into bowls and handed one to Tao, who gulped the water without even thinking of straining it. She slowly pushed another bowl along the floor towards Kai and watched as the dragon picked up the bowl with his front paw and lifted it to his mouth. Then she wet a shawl and handed it to Tao. He draped it over the dragon’s head to stop his mane smouldering. He carefully wiped the dragon’s scales. Most of the black came off; only a few were charred at the tips.

  “Now you don’t have to worry about being alone with me,” the girl said. She was trying not to look alarmed, but her eyes never left the dragon.

  Once Tao’s eyes had stopped stinging and had grown accustomed to the dim light, he could see that in the underground room there was a comfortable-looking wooden bed covered with a brocade quilt, a pile of embroidered cushions and a low table for eating. There were bowls and cooking pots, a jug of water and a basin.