by Matt Laney
“I have brought you a whisker from the chin of Nagarjuna, the draycon who lives in the cave on top of the mountain!” he exclaimed triumphantly. The sage took the whisker and held it up to the light.
“This is indeed a whisker from the chin of Nagarjuna, the draycon who lives in the cave on the mountain.” Then he dropped the whisker into the fire.
“What have you done!” the youngling cried. “That whisker was for the potion to cure me of my self-hatred. Do you have any idea how long it took and how hard it was to get that whisker? You are a stupid, worthless sage!”
“How could you hate someone as clever and brave as yourself?” the wise man replied. “You have shown great patience and courage in attaining that whisker. Is learning to love yourself really more difficult than that?”
The youngling went home and slowly, with great patience and courage, began to love himself.
When the story is over and the vision fades, I am breathless and gasping for air, as if I’ve just run up and down that mountain ten times myself.
Shanti is jubilant. “A wonderful story, Lord Leo, and just the one you needed! That is the sign of a great teller: the right story at the right time.”
Zoya sits up from where she slept, half covered in goatskin bedding, the ends of her mouth turned slightly upward.
That last detail is a good sign.
Her brother is another matter. “So you’re a Spinner too?”
Exactly the reaction I feared.
“You got a problem with that?” Anjali snaps.
Stick is indignant. “Well, yeah! The prince and future Singa-Kahn is a diseased Spinner, a criminal, a deviant—you don’t have a problem with that?”
Anjali draws her long blade. “Show some respect for the throne or I’ll—”
“He’s the one who needs your blade.” Stick thrusts a finger at me. “On his tongue!”
“You are under arrest for high treason!” Anjali snarls.
“How can I be under arrest by someone who is protecting an outlaw? I should be arresting you!” Stick counters.
I can’t take this anymore. “Both of you, stop! We’re all outlaws now. There’s no point in arresting each other.”
“The prince speaks truly,” a new, commanding voice breaks in. “You are all under arrest.”
Chapter 24
If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.
—Sayings of the Ancients
oldiers slide out of the morning mist from every direction. Most have arrows notched on the strings of their bows. At first there are five, then ten. Soon sixteen warriors, a full company, encircle us.
“Put down your weapons, and upon my honor as a soldier, no one will be harmed!” The commander of this company is familiar to me. It’s Mandar, and this time he has the upper hand. His confident, buoyant tone suggests he is enjoying the reversal immensely. His armor colors boast of a promotion.
“I see Tamir has rewarded you for your loyalty, Company Commander,” Anjali scoffs.
Shanti raises his staff, preparing for battle.
“You won’t be needing that, shepherd. We are only here to escort the prince home. We come in peace.”
Anjali growls. “If you come in peace, Mandar, why all the arrows and blades?”
“A precaution, Captain, to ensure you don’t run off again.” Mandar gloats.
A thunderous yet muted roar echoes from deep within the nearest cave, followed by a series of booming footsteps. My quadron exchanges nervous glances. Shanti winks at me. Mandar and his soldiers take no notice, proving that they did not hear or witness the story.
Mandar gestures to a group of warriors. “Take their weapons. Bind their hands but not their feet, unless they prefer to be dragged back to the castle.”
Two quadrons advance, ropes in hand.
A second roar blasts, louder and closer.
Stick’s ears go flat with dread. “What is that?”
I know exactly what it is. A creature that big could only be Nagarjuna, the draycon from the story.
“Whatever it is, I don’t like the sound of it,” Anjali states.
“Damar ha shem,” Shanti says to me.
I’ve heard those words before, in Grandfather’s account of the Great War. “What?”
“Damar ha shem. It means ‘Say the name’ in the Old Language. Say the name, Leo,” he repeats, as if he’s encouraging a little cub to take his first steps. “This is what you were born to do.”
The draycon continues his noisy approach. In a moment the creature will appear, but only to the five of us who heard the story. To make the beast visible and real to everyone, to bring him fully into this world, I only have to damar ha shem, or say his name.
That, or I let these goons take us back to Tamir.
“Nagarjuna!”
The cave shakes with an earsplitting roar. The warriors freeze.
“What the devil was that?” Mandar cries.
“Just a draycon I keep in the cave,” Shanti says. “He doesn’t take kindly to strangers.”
“There are no draycons inside the Great Wall!” Mandar insists, shuddering.
“That’s true,” Shanti agrees. “Except for this one. His name is Nagarjuna, and he does not sound happy. If I were you, I would leave as soon as possible.”
Mandar’s troops instinctively take a step back, ready to follow the shepherd’s advice and turn tail.
“Hold your ground!” Mandar commands. “We have our orders, draycon or no draycon!”
“As you wish,” Shanti says.
Stick and Zoya put a blade to each hand and stand behind Anjali. We all gape into the throat of the cave.
Out of the darkness, a huge horned reptilian head with bright green eyes appears, suspended on a serpentine neck. The scaly skin of his body flashes red, then copper, then brown, like a fish in sunlit water. Hot breath pumps from nostrils larger than a full-grown Singa.
“That’s one ugly creature,” Stick moans.
“He is magnificent,” Shanti proclaims in awe. “The likes of whom I have not seen since the Great War.”
The draycon’s entire body is in view now. Only the end of a long spiked tail lingers in the cave.
“Prepare to attack!” Mandar orders. “Fire arrows!”
Bows twang and arrows whistle through the air at Nagarjuna’s head and body, but no arrowhead is strong enough to penetrate his armorlike hide. The draycon roars again, and the warriors recoil.
“Run for the cave behind the draycon,” Shanti orders my quadron. “Stay close to Lord Leo. The beast will not harm his master.”
Before we can challenge this insane plan, Shanti seizes my arm and charges straight for Nagarjuna, through his legs, and into the cave beyond. The draycon lowers his great head and observes me thoughtfully.
Shanti clues me in. “He is yours to command, Leo. Give him an order!”
The company of soldiers shoulder their bows and organize an assault with their blades. My mind struggles to form a sentence in the face of this terrible creature and the advancing soldiers.
“Um . . . could you please . . . make those soldiers leave this place?”
Nagarjuna roars in reply, and my heart withers. Stick holds his ears and scrunches up his face. “Can you order him to not do that again? My head is about to burst!”
“That command was well phrased, Lord Leo,” Shanti affirms. “For the soldiers to leave this place, they must do so alive. The draycon now knows not to kill.”
Let’s hope so. This beast could wipe us all out in seconds if he had a mind to.
Nagarjuna rises up on his hind legs, towering over everyone and everything. He leaps at the soldiers and knocks five of them off their feet with one swat of his tail. Mandar and the remaining soldiers stage a brave attack from multiple directions. A few manage to score blows to the draycon’s legs and tail, but hardly enough to matter. The draycon releases a deafening roar in the face of Mandar, who immediately passes out.
“Take yo
ur commander and leave while you can!” Shanti advises the remaining soldiers. The draycon scoops up two soldiers in his front claws and pitches them over the trees. That’s all the convincing the last warriors need. They collect Mandar and drag away their fallen comrades. Nagarjuna howls triumphantly, which hastens the soldiers’ retreat. When the last of them have disappeared, the draycon swivels his head and locks his raging eyes on us.
Only Shanti is fearless in the face of the monster’s attention. “Give chase!” he directs the other shepherds, who have watched the battle from the shelter of their own caves. “Make sure those soldiers stay far away from here.” Immediately, the shepherds take up discarded weapons and pursue the retreating warriors.
Nagarjuna lowers himself to the ground before me. His dreadful head and thorny face are only a few meters from my feet. Instead of attacking, the beast whimpers like a pup.
“He wants to be rewarded,” Shanti says, “for his service to you.”
“With a snack?” Stick asks. “Give him Zoya. She’s biggest!”
“No,” Shanti says in a faraway voice. “He wants to go back home. He wants you to open the door to the Haven, Leo.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Leo,” Shanti says over the warm gusts wafting from the beast’s nostrils. “This might be the right moment to tell you what a Spinner actually is. Spinners are gateways to and from another world. The fictions are gifts from Alayah, sent through Spinners, gifts of wisdom and truth. For a few very powerful Spinners, beings from the stories are pulled into our world to protect and serve the one who brought them here. Only the Spinner who summoned them can send them back. To my knowledge no such Spinner has ever been born among the Singa.”
“I don’t understand.”
The draycon groans to remind us of his presence. In fact, he is impossible to ignore.
Shanti points at the draycon. “The only way this stranded creature can get back to the Haven, his home, is the way he came, through the teller. You!” He pokes a finger into my chest. “You, Prince Leo, are the door between our world and the Haven. Such a precious gift comes very, very rarely.”
“Is it a gift?” I question. “Or a curse?”
Shanti sighs. “The only curse is that you have been taught to see yourself as diseased. You are nothing of the kind.”
I want him to be right, but I don’t know what to believe anymore.
“I can prove it to you,” he adds. “How many Jin do you remember?”
“Jin?”
“The visitors who have come through your stories! How many names can you recall?”
“Three, maybe four?”
“Say every name you can.”
“What? Now? Here?”
“Start with one name. Pick any one of them. Say it!”
The name of the hunter comes to mind. “Oreyon.”
“Bravo, Lord!” Oreyon appears next to the draycon and leans against the beast’s meaty foreleg, as casually as he might rest against a tree. “I thought you might have forgotten about me.”
“I tried.”
Stick is shocked. “Where did he come from?”
“Ha!” Shanti is giddy at the appearance of the hunter. “What other names do you remember?”
“Wait,” Stick mutters. “The wolf at the Academy. Was that you?”
“Rukan!” I say, and the giant black wolf materializes behind Nagarjuna’s shoulder, dipping his head respectfully.
“Your Majesty,” he says in greeting.
Anjali growls and draws her long blade. Rukan bares his bladelike teeth and growls in return.
Shanti chuckles and slides between them. “Return your blade to its sheath, Captain. We are not in danger. Indeed, we have never been safer than we are right now. Keep going, Leo!”
I take a deep breath. “Kensho! Vishna!” The wise prince and the old healer pop into view.
Then my mind goes blank. Shanti and I hold each other in a silent, anxious gaze.
“I can’t remember any more.”
“There are many, many more, Lord,” Vishna says, stepping toward me. “Let me help you.”
Vishna wraps my head in her arms and presses me to her chest. Her body is as warm and fragrant as spring. She hums and mutters some words in the Old Language. When she’s done, a blast of memory crashes over my tongue. Names gush out of my mouth, like a story desperate to get free.
“Mohanu! Shankara! Gulati! Vijayah! Iyengar!” I pronounce.
I am scarcely aware of the creatures and figures bursting into view, all smiling broadly and bowing. The names keep coming and coming, dozens of them, then hundreds. All of them characters I pushed away because they reminded me of what I am.
“Sajagi! Sophia! Shudra! Doji! Pitri! Madhavah! Ameelah!”
A great and growing multitude of beings surrounds us. If Shanti and Vishna are right, these creatures have been with me ever since their particular stories pulled them into our world. Some of them have been with me for years. All waiting for me to call them into service and then to be sent home, back to the Haven.
“Ishvarah! Kumar! Dalah! Valmiki! Tarah! Gokhalah! Balini!”
Stick, Zoya, and Anjali examine the swelling army of creatures with fear and fascination. I can’t imagine what’s going through their heads as they discover just how strange I really am.
“Sahni! Shudrah! Negimah! Ishvar! Barman!”
The last name escapes my mouth and I nearly collapse.
Anjali holds me steady. “You okay?”
Stick gawks at the gathered crowd of witnesses. “This is unbelievable.”
“Kind of creepy having all these strange eyes on you,” Anjali whispers.
“All my life,” I say.
Oreyon edges forward and speaks for the whole assembly. “If it pleases you, Lord, may we return home?”
The ears of every being tilt forward, eager to hear my reply.
My answer comes quicker than I expect. “Yes.”
The gathering sighs with relief and delight. Oreyon claps his hands. “He is willing! Alayah be praised!”
A fluttering sensation swirls in my torso. Something cracks open and expands within me. Anjali stares at my torso, horrified. “What’s happening to you?”
I look down. Where I would normally find my chest and stomach, there is a patch of blue sky and that glorious light spinning over an infinite sea. Countless winged beings soar and swirl around the light, singing with joy. The whole scene is not much wider or longer than the space between my shoulders and legs. It’s as if my torso has become a window to the Haven. Or, as Shanti says, a door.
I know what I have to do. For the first time in my bizarre little life, everything is clear. Meanwhile, Anjali draws closer, transfixed by the vision of the Haven. Her hand reaches for the light turning in my chest.
“No, Anjali,” I warn her. “Stand clear.”
“Get over here, all of you,” Shanti calls from the mouth of the cave. “Give Leo room.”
I step forward.
“Come,” I invite our otherworldly guests. “I understand now. Come.”
Oreyon approaches first. He bows and walks directly into me, disappearing in a flash of light.
It kind of tickles.
The same happens for Kensho, the prince who sought wisdom; Vishna, the healer; and Rukan, the great wolf. No matter what their size, the characters walk into me one by one without breaking stride and depart from this world with a burst of light.
Once the first group has made its exit, the rest charge forward, jubilantly returning to the Haven. Each creature departs with a flash as it dives into me. They are coming so fast now, I can no longer make out the faces barreling forward. Soon I even lose track of myself, swallowed up in the light.
Nagarjuna advances last of all. His fearsome face has softened. He waddles forward, hunkered to the ground, as if preparing to squeeze through a low door.
Which is what I am.
I hold out my hand. “No. Not yet.” The opening in my torso
closes. Anjali wilts as the draycon growls and scrapes the earth with his foreclaws.
“Leo, what are you doing?” Stick whines. “Get rid of that thing before he gets rid of us!”
“No,” I repeat firmly, both to the draycon and to Stick. “Nagarjuna will stay here!”
The draycon rears up on his hind legs and hovers over us.
“You will stay here and guard these caves against all intruders, but you will not harm any of the shepherds who live here!” I command the towering monster, wondering if he can even hear me from up there.
Nagarjuna slams his forelegs to the ground. It takes every ounce of courage I can muster not to cower in fear. The draycon’s head is centimeters from my own. He releases a deafening roar and every bone in my body quakes with dread.
Then it happens: An urgent desire to make this beast obey bubbles up from my gut. Anger climbs the length of my spine, blowing out of my mouth in a thundering volcano of sound!
I’m as surprised by my own roar as by the draycon’s reaction. Nagarjuna shudders, steps back, and dips his head.
I repeat my instructions. “You will return to the Haven one day, my friend. For now, I need you to guard these caves against all intruders. But you will not harm or disturb the shepherds who stay here.”
The beast groans with frustration and, I hope, acceptance.
“Well done, Lord,” Shanti says admiringly. “Well done.”
Stick is still protecting his ears. “Is it over? I think I’m losing my mind in addition to my hearing.”
A flash of light sweeps the ground, followed by the rustle of wings.
What now?
The draycon has taken notice as well. He searches the sky before lowering himself farther, whimpering and whining.
A big bright bird flaps to the ground, its mighty wings stirring up the dust at our feet. It is the same firewing who has appeared to me before. He is much larger now, twice the height of a Singa, and wrapped in flames, outshining the sun.
“The Great Firewing!” Shanti marvels as the majestic bird touches down. “Kneel, all of you! Bow your heads!”
I sink to one knee and lower my eyes. In the presence of such a powerful and blazing creature, there is nothing else to do. The Great Firewing rests his beak on my head. His glowing neck feathers wrap around my face until I am enveloped in flames that caress instead of burn. His scent is sweet as honey and strong as blood.