Jamie Reign

by P J Tierney

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I’m ready.’

  Chapter 22

  Mr Fan led his young charge down a wide corridor of exposed beams and timber screens. Windows framed views of the gardens, or the ocean, or the Grand Pagoda. The light streamed in and seemed to glow brightest at the end of the corridor, where there was a set of double doors carved with a famous scene of a princess being rescued from ambush by her kung fu-fighting friend.

  Mr Fan opened the doors and stood back.

  Jamie swallowed nervously.

  The room beyond was warm. Light filtered through the patterned timber screens at the windows and cast geometric shadows onto the polished stone floor. There was a redwood table with calligraphy banners hanging behind it. Standing alongside it was a man Jamie would recognise anywhere. Master Wu. The great master placed his right fist into the open palm of his left hand and bowed.

  Jamie’s jaw dropped. He shot a glance over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind him. No. The great Master Wu was bowing to him.

  Jamie was struck by a moment of panic. What would be worse: to copy a bow he might not be entitled to use, or to insult the great man by not returning one at all? Jamie settled on bringing his hands together at waist height and bobbing his head.

  It seemed to suffice. Master Wu smiled.

  Mr Fan then followed Jamie into the room. ‘Yulong,’ Master Wu said, holding his arms out in a welcoming embrace, ‘how good to see you.’

  ‘It is good to be back,’ Mr Fan said. ‘Very good indeed.’ He held his arm out to Jamie and added, ‘And I am very pleased to bring with me this young man.’

  ‘Come forwards,’ Master Wu said, enticing Jamie closer with a wave and a smile. ‘Let me see who I have to thank for the safe return of my Warriors.’

  Jamie gnawed on his lip and took a few tentative steps towards Master Wu. He walked into a beam of light from the window; it lit up his face. Master Wu’s expression changed: his smile slipped and his eyes narrowed. He leaned towards Jamie and tilted his head as if trying to make sense of something. Then his eyes grew wide and he paled.

  Jamie shifted uncomfortably and looked at Mr Fan for reassurance. Mr Fan was smiling and nodding in a very self-satisfied way.

  Eventually Master Wu breathed a single word: ‘Mayling.’

  The name rang in Jamie’s ears and a wild possibility swelled within him. ‘You know my mother?’

  ‘She had a child?’ Master Wu said.

  ‘You know her? Is she here?’ Jamie turned to Mr Fan. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ And then back to Master Wu, desperate now. ‘Is she here? What happened to her?’ He turned towards the door. ‘Is she here now?’

  ‘Wait,’ Master Wu said in a tone that firmly stopped Jamie in his tracks.

  Jamie read the grave expression on Master Wu’s face and his shoulders slumped. ‘She’s not here, is she?’

  Master Wu shook his head.

  Jamie’s excitement drained away and he had to force himself to breathe. His voice was a mere whisper as he asked, ‘What happened?’

  Master Wu shook his head and took a long time to answer. ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘But you must know something.’

  ‘She left us, Jamie, and we never knew what became of her.’ Master Wu bent to Jamie and coaxed him to look up. ‘Now at least we know something about her life beyond Chia Wu.’ Master Wu smiled. ‘Now we know you.’

  It was little consolation to Jamie. ‘Why did she leave?’ he asked, his voice catching as he spoke.

  Master Wu shook his head again. ‘We don’t know. We always thought her purpose was here with us. She must have thought otherwise.’

  ‘Do you know where she is now?’

  Master Wu leaned against the desk. It looked as if he was bracing himself to say more. ‘We searched everywhere, Jamie. You know enough about us, I am sure, to understand that we communicate differently. In fact, it is hard for us not to communicate.’ He stopped and swallowed, seeming to struggle to go on. ‘Jamie,’ he said, ‘in the first few years there were traces of her, a Summons, a disruption in the Way. But all that stopped twelve years ago and we’ve not had a single trace of her since.’

  For a moment, everything stood still. No-one spoke a word; there was not a breeze, not even a heartbeat.

  ‘You think she’s dead,’ Jamie said dully.

  Master Wu didn’t answer; he didn’t have to.

  Jamie felt Mr Fan’s hand on his shoulder and let himself be guided to the redwood table. He sat and Master Wu poured tea. The two men sipped, but Jamie just stared at the tabletop. There were no tears; there was only emptiness where hope had momentarily flared.

  Master Wu refilled the teacups. After a while, he said, ‘She was a good student, wasn’t she, Yulong?’

  Mr Fan let out a soft chuckle. ‘Remember how she loved to dive from the top of the Dragon Rock?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Master Wu said. ‘She didn’t seem to care how much trouble she got into for it either.’

  Jamie looked up. ‘My mum got in trouble?’

  ‘Constantly,’ Master Wu said, but he said it with a smile. ‘And she was good at kung fu, wasn’t she, Mr Fan?’

  ‘Good?’ Mr Fan said. ‘She was exceptional. When she sparred, Jamie, people stopped to watch. Her technique was flawless and her speed …’ He shook his head. ‘No-one stood a chance against her.’ A smile flitted across his face. ‘Did they, Master Wu? Not a chance.’

  Master Wu tilted his head back and looked suspiciously at Mr Fan. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about, Sifu.’

  ‘Oh, I think you do,’ Mr Fan said, arching his brows.

  Master Wu cleared his throat. ‘Well, there may have been the one occasion — one,’ he said, holding up a single digit, ‘when she may have got the better of me. If this is what you are referring to, Sifu Fan, I must advise you that it was most unusual.’

  Mr Fan smiled mischievously. ‘Really, Master Wu, most unusual?’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ Master Wu sighed. ‘She beat me. Are you happy, Sifu? I admit it: I was beaten. She was amazing, Jamie, the way she could read a fight. It was as if she knew what I was going to do before I did.’ He smiled as he remembered. ‘She could make an eagle claw like a talon. You’ve never seen anything like it.’

  Jamie caught his breath and looked at Mr Fan.

  ‘Show him,’ Mr Fan said.

  Jamie formed his eagle claw.

  Master Wu reeled back, his eyes wide, his expression unreadable. He turned to Mr Fan, who nodded. Master Wu turned back to Jamie, his expression unchanged.

  ‘Is it the same as my mother’s?’ Jamie asked. ‘Is that where I get it from?’

  ‘No, child,’ Master Wu said very softly. ‘I think you have arrived on this earth with your own set of skills. Skills that have long been lost to the rest of us.’

  Mr Fan cleared his throat, but Master Wu continued regardless. He asked in a casual tone, ‘Tell me, Jamie, when’s your birthday?’

  Jamie was about to say, ‘The day the Ki-Lin appeared.’ But Mr Fan cut in, ‘He’s not the one.’ And he tilted his head in Jamie’s direction in a way that implied there was more to say, but not in front of him.

  Jamie didn’t care. He didn’t want to hear all over again about how he didn’t have a spirit guide.

  Master Wu looked puzzled, but changed the subject. ‘Do you like what you have seen here at Chia Wu?’

  Jamie nodded enthusiastically, desperate to convey just how much he liked it.

  ‘Here the Warriors of the Way learn much more than kung fu,’ Master Wu said. ‘They study the ancient texts from two and a half thousand years ago and discover the secrets of the Way. They learn how to Summon the Way and how to Conjure it as well. They learn the highly complex task of Riding the Way and —’

  Mr Fan interrupted by clearing his throat.

  Master Wu waited for him to finish, then continued on, ‘By mastering the Way, our Warriors come to understand their life’s pur —’

  Mr
Fan cleared his throat again, much louder this time.

  ‘Excuse me, Jamie,’ Master Wu said, ‘but it seems my dear Sifu is either suffering a spontaneous case of reflux or he would like to draw my attention to something.’

  Jamie giggled. Master Wu turned to Mr Fan and gave him his full attention.

  Mr Fan lowered his head in deference.

  ‘You see, Jamie,’ Master Wu said, ‘it was not long ago that Sifu Fan was the teacher and I the student. He likes to remind me I still have much to learn.’

  Mr Fan blushed. He said to Jamie, ‘It was abundantly clear even in those early days that Master Wu’s skills far exceeded my own. The student quickly became the teacher.’ Master Wu smiled and bowed slightly. Mr Fan continued, ‘Pardon my interruption, Master, but I wanted to advise you that Jamie is already highly skilled in the disciplines of the Way.’

  Master Wu raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised and impressed. ‘Then I think your purpose truly is here with us, young man. Do you think Chia Wu is part of your purpose, Jamie?’

  Jamie’s stomach churned. Up till then his only purpose was being Hector’s boat boy and trying to keep him from insulting the villagers too much. Yet he couldn’t just leave Sai Chun, not while Hector was in the hospital and especially not with The Swift. If Hector recovered to find his boat gone, Jamie wouldn’t have to worry about his life’s purpose — he’d be more worried about his life. ‘It’s my dad,’ Jamie began. ‘He’s in hospital and I can’t really leave.’ But there was something else nagging at him.

  Chia Wu was beyond comparison with any school he’d ever seen. It was even better than Xavier Elite and that cost a lot of money.

  Master Wu watched as Jamie shuffled nervously on the stool. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Um,’ Jamie said, ‘it’s just that … well … it’s been a bad year.’

  ‘Young one,’ Master Wu replied kindly and with sympathy, ‘money can buy many things, but it cannot buy what you will be taught here. Do not worry about the expense. Everything you need — everything every student needs — is provided.’

  Jamie smiled slowly at first, then broadly. Maybe, just maybe, Chia Wu is the place where I will belong.

  Master Wu brought his hands down onto the table. ‘Now, Sifu Fan,’ he said, ‘is that the smell of Mrs Choo’s cooking in the air? Or am I simply imagining it?’

  ‘That divine aroma is not your imagination. Shall we?’

  As Jamie followed Mr Fan and Master Wu along the covered walkways towards the Western Pavilions, his thoughts were all about his mother. She had walked these pathways, swum in these waters, breathed this air. They rounded a corner and the Dragon Rock loomed large. Jamie imagined a young girl clambering up the side and diving from the top. He rested his hand on the rail. He had never felt as close to his mother as he did right now; nor so sad that he’d never known her.

  Master Wu and Mr Fan walked on, leaving Jamie to his thoughts. He had a nagging feeling deep in his stomach: his mother had run from here and then later from him. Did the secrets to his past begin here? Jamie looked at the Dragon Rock and the Grand Pagoda beyond. What was she running from?

  Jamie eventually pulled himself away from the lake and followed the sound of voices to the dining pavilion. He paused as he reached for the door. He took a deep breath and pushed it open.

  Everyone around the large central table stopped talking and looked at him. Then, one by one, they stood. First Master Wu, then Mr Fan, then Wing and Lucy and Jade. Two other boys at the table stood up as well. Jamie was astonished to see that one of them was Caucasian, with blond hair. Mrs Choo came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

  Then, as one, they bowed.

  Jamie bit his bottom lip, the breath caught in his throat and his knees trembled. He brought his right fist and his left palm together and bowed.

  It was only when he raised his head and the Warriors of the Way had returned to their seats that he saw there was one more person at the table. Unlike the others, he hadn’t budged from his seat.

  Wing rushed forwards, hugged Jamie and thumped him on the back. His body was trembling and his hands were ice-cold. ‘You really saved me. Thank you,’ he said. ‘And that orb was amazing.’ Then he corrected himself. ‘No, you were amazing.’

  Wing led Jamie to the table and they took seats between Master Wu and Lucy. Master Wu introduced Jamie to the other students. Edwin, the delicate-looking blond boy, looked up and smiled at Jamie. A big boy whose puppy fat had not yet turned to muscle was called Bruce. Beside him, deep in a one-sided conversation with Jade, was the boy who hadn’t stood up. His name was Cheng.

  Cheng looked older than the others and it was apparent he’d spent most of those extra years training. Every line in his body was a subtle, taut curve that accentuated each muscle. Yet he wasn’t all bulging muscles like the men who had attacked Bohai; Cheng’s body gave off a leaner menace. Cheng tore his attention from Jade just long enough to say, ‘Hey.’

  ‘Are you having trouble standing, Cheng?’ Mr Fan asked as a subtle rebuke.

  Cheng looked Mr Fan in the eye. ‘Just a stiff knee,’ he said. ‘Should be all right with some rest.’

  Wing nudged Jamie and rolled his eyes.

  The dining pavilion was built as two octagons, one inside the other, with eight ironwood pillars separating the two. The table was within the central octagon and the pillars stood like guards around it. The tables and chairs in the outer octagon were pushed up against the wall, collecting dust, and the painted scenes on the walls were cracked and discoloured with age. There was a sense of faded grandeur about the place and, like the rest of Chia Wu, it felt like it was waking from a long slumber, readying itself for the new Warriors of the Way.

  Mrs Choo hovered at the entrance to the kitchen. ‘Is there anything you don’t eat, Jamie?’

  He shook his head. He’d never been able to afford the luxury of refusing food.

  The meal began with a steamed fish so large that its head overhung one end of the platter, its tail the other. The smell of hot oil, ginger and shallots filled the air and Jamie breathed in deeply. Master Wu separated the flesh from the bone and gestured for their bowls. He served them all fish, then drizzled it with the soy and ginger stock from the platter.

  Mrs Choo brought plate after overflowing plate to the table that night. Two types of vegetable dishes, one with tofu and mushrooms, the other gai lan with an oyster sauce; a crispy-skinned chicken; beef with bitter melon; and a mountain of rice. Bowls were filled and delicacies offered. Jamie ate politely, not wanting to take more than his share, but Wing made sure there was always something on his plate. He twice waved for Jamie’s bowl and placed something on it. ‘This is the best part,’ he would say; or, ‘Try this, you’ll love it.’

  Jamie did love it, both the food and being part of something bigger.

  ‘Do you always eat like this?’ he asked.

  ‘Maybe not this well,’ Lucy said. ‘Maybe you should nearly drown more often, Wing.’

  ‘No offence to your mum, Wing,’ Edwin piped up, ‘but couldn’t you sometimes just go a cheeseburger?’

  There was a smattering of laughter around the table and even Wing joined in. Afterwards he leaned in close to Jamie and asked, ‘What’s a cheeseburger?’

  After they had eaten their fill, Wing got to retell his story. Those who hadn’t been there oohed and ahhed in all the right places. Jamie noticed Jade starting to fidget when they got to the part when Jamie ran back to the bridge.

  ‘What? You just left him dangling over the water?’ Cheng said, making Jamie shift awkwardly.

  Jade watched, waiting to see if he would expose her.

  Jamie shrugged. ‘Mr Fan had him.’

  Cheng scoffed. ‘We’ll have to remember that, boys, in case we need to rely on this one in a tight situation.’

  Jamie felt Mr Fan bristle. But before he could defend Jamie, Jade picked up her chopstick and rammed it into the tabletop. It reverberated to a standstill, wedged tightly bet
ween Cheng’s thumb and forefinger.

  Master Wu brought his hands together in an ear-ringing clap. He nodded at Edwin and Bruce, who quickly collected the plates and bowls from the table and took them into the kitchen. Master Wu stood and thanked Mrs Choo for her cooking, then said, ‘The rest of you, to bed.’

  Jamie didn’t need to be told twice; he was keen to get away from Cheng.

  ‘Wing has a spare bunk in his room,’ Mr Fan said kindly. ‘You’ll find it far more aromatic than The Swift right now.’

  Lucy cringed and Jamie gratefully accepted.

  He followed Wing from the dining pavilion and they found Jade waiting for them on the dark path. She gestured for Wing to keep going, then said to Jamie, ‘You were all right today, on the boat and in there as well.’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘You were good out there too.’

  She scoffed.

  ‘No, really,’ he said. ‘It was pretty unfair to make you face waves like that your first time. Anyone would have turned the wheel, Jade, anyone.’

  She had an intensity in her eyes. ‘I’m not anyone.’

  Jamie laughed, then didn’t know if he should have. She seemed so serious. Then she shrugged, made a fist and punched him lightly on the shoulder. In Jade’s world, that was probably as good as a hug.

  At that moment the door of the dining pavilion slid open and a shaft of light caught them standing close together. Cheng saw them pull away from each other and he stormed off into the darkness. As far as Jamie could see, his knee was just fine.

  Chapter 23

  In Wing’s room, there was a set of bunks running down one side, a long, narrow, lacquered table down the other side, and a delicately woven carpet joining the two. The carpet, swirls of blues and cream, showed dragons chasing each other through the clouds. It felt wrong to walk on it. Books were strewn across the table and some clothes as well. Wing swept up the clothes and tossed them into the corner.

  ‘The top bunk’s all yours,’ he said. He dug down into a sandalwood chest and pulled out a pair of pyjama pants. He held them up to the light and gave them a quick sniff, then tossed them to Jamie. ‘These are sort of clean.’