by P J Tierney
‘There’s a language in the symbols,’ Master Wu said, pointing at the squares. ‘The symbol for earth is the square, the symbol for heaven is a circle.’
‘Heaven and earth,’ Jamie said.
‘Heaven on earth,’ Master Wu corrected. ‘The dragon circle is the symbol of the Spirit Warrior. The squares depict his lives on earth.’
Jamie looked closely at the scenes within the squares. Each showed a young man surrounded by shining orbs, fighting a man dressed in leather. While the Spirit Warrior’s clothes changed with each scene, depicting the times in which he lived, the pointy-faced man he was fighting always wore the same black leather armour and spiked helmet.
Jamie walked up to the wall and ran his hand over the dragons. ‘Why is there a hole in the middle?’ he asked.
‘It is symbolic of the Spirit Warrior’s link to the other realm. To the Great Guide.’
‘And the pavilion above it?’
Master Wu smiled as he looked at the top. ‘That is the pavilion in the clouds where everything is known and everything is written. It is where the Great Guide watches over the earth and in particular over his Warrior.’
‘The Spirit Warrior is guided by the Great Guide?’
Master Wu nodded. ‘That is why the Spirit Warrior is so valuable. He has access to all that knowledge.’
‘The dragon lantern,’ Jamie said, standing back to look at the very top of the picture. ‘Was that copied from the one in the Grand Pagoda?’
‘No, Jamie, it was the other way round.’
Jamie was confused. ‘I thought the one in the pagoda was from Lao Tzu’s pavilion.’
Master Wu smiled mischievously. ‘Haven’t you figured it out yet? Lao Tzu is the Great Guide.’
‘Ahh,’ Jamie said, tilting his head back. ‘That explains our connection with the Way.’ It also explained why he wasn’t the Spirit Warrior. If you had a spirit guide as powerful as Lao Tzu, you wouldn’t have trouble connecting with him.
‘You might call this our hall of fame,’ Master Wu said, directing Jamie back to the long silk banners. ‘The Warriors leave their mark here before they go out into the world.’
Master Wu stopped at a silk and pushed till its mounting rod pivoted. It swung back, opening as though it was a page in a book. The silks were patterned with symbols and elaborate decoration. As far as Jamie could tell, no two were the same.
‘If you look closely,’ Master Wu said, ‘you will see the banner tells the story of who this person was in each of their lives, all leading to this point right now. The silks are hung in a ceremony the evening before the candidates are to pass the gate.’
Jamie’s heart raced. His mother’s story would be here. Would it include him? He walked the length of the room, to where the silks were less discoloured and dusty. They looked as if they’d been hung there this century, at least.
‘Is she here?’ he asked.
Master Wu followed. As Jamie scanned the hundreds of possibilities, Master Wu stopped at an almost imperceptible gap in the banners. He pushed at a silk. Jamie leaned in close, desperate to see. Then he followed Master Wu’s gaze up to a tattered shred of silk that clung to an otherwise empty rod.
‘She tore it down, Jamie.’
It was like his lungs had been crushed from the inside. The air came gushing out, but he couldn’t take any back in. He bent double.
‘Breathe,’ Master Wu said.
I was so close, so close, Jamie thought.
‘What was on her silk?’
Master Wu shook his head. ‘I never got to see it.’
All of a sudden the room felt cold and empty. Jamie knew the answers he sought were not here. Not any more, at least.
Jamie stumbled from the hall, biting back tears of disappointment and frustration. He went past the dining pavilion, where his friends’ laughter rang out, and to the dormitories. He collected his monkey, then paced the winding paths of Chia Wu.
Jamie tugged at the foliage that brushed against him and kicked at loose stones on the path. Why is it so difficult to find out anything about my mother? What is she hiding?
Jet clung to Jamie’s shoulder and made calming cooing noises, which Jamie ignored. They eventually found themselves in the banana grove and Jet leaped from his perch and into the trees. He plucked a handful of bananas, but stopped before shoving them in his mouth. He considered Jamie. He made his way down the tree, then held the bananas out to him.
Jamie was touched. He sat the monkey on his lap and they shared the fruit.
There was so much information floating around Jamie’s head. He was sure his mother had been running from something, but he still had to figure out what. It had something to do with her life plan. What had she been hiding when she ripped her silk down?
Deep down inside he felt he had all the pieces, but he couldn’t make them fit together. He berated himself for being so stupid.
Jamie put his monkey on his shoulder and Jet gently patted his head. They went back to the lake and took the long way round to the Dragon Rock.
He chose the zigzag path across the lake. He took his time and trailed his hand along the smooth rail. The water lapped at the bridge and the carp fed lazily from the surface. On the other bank, Jamie followed the path along the lake’s edge. Jet scampered up into the canopy and swung through the trees, keeping pace with Jamie below.
At the Moon Gate, Jamie stopped to look at the Dragon Rock. Mr Fan’s words ran through his mind: There are no coincidences, Jamie, there is only meaning. Jamie concentrated on what he knew had meaning. The passing through the gate — that was the coincidence that linked Sai Chun to Chia Wu. What is it about the gate? Jamie racked his brain. The Gate at Sai Chun was just submerged rocks — how could that mean anything? And then Jamie realised. The rocks were under the water, but he could see them. He could see underwater. His mother had loved to dive from the Dragon Rock — Master Wu had told him that the first time they met. Was that the meaning in the coincidence? Was there something beneath the Dragon Rock?
Jamie scrambled to the water’s edge. His heart was racing. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, then felt the familiar rising, swinging sensation, as if he was leaving his body behind.
He scanned the lake and let his View drop through the surface. For a moment, he saw two refracted images: sky above, water below, and in the centre a sparking line separating the two. Then he was beneath the ripples, in a distorted, wavy, weightless gloom.
His View took him towards the Dragon Rock. It was much wider beneath the water and its surface was slimy with moss and plants. Small carp fed on the weeds coating its sides. Jamie followed its bulk down to its base. It was perched on a rock shelf that was riddled with caves and holes.
A movement caught his eye, startling him: a fat tendril that wound and slithered through the rocks. It was a freshwater eel and looked far too much like a snake for Jamie’s comfort. He waited until the eel had wound its way out of sight, then he Viewed deeper. The rock ledge gave way to a deep, dark abyss. Jamie looked up through the shimmery water to where the top of the Dragon Rock loomed. This must have been the spot his mother dived into. It was the only place deep enough. It was bleak and dark. Only when the clouds far above separated and a shaft of light penetrated the gloom was Jamie able to see the undulating sea-plants, the tiny floating particles of decay the fish fed on, and a sparkling flash of gold.
Jamie snapped back to his body. A flash of gold? Something was hidden beneath the Dragon Rock.
Jamie yanked his shoes free and pulled his shirt over his head. He waded into the water, and when it was up to his waist, he dived. He swam across to the rock, thinking, This is it. This is what my mother left me.
It was far too deep to free-dive, so he climbed up the side of the Dragon Rock. At the top, he looked down into the water far below and closed his eyes to View what he had just seen. He confirmed his position, then he dived.
His hands broke the surface first, but the impact still jarred. He pulled himself dow
n through the water with big sweeping arm movements, deeper and deeper, feeling the pressure push against his chest and eardrums.
He reached for the ledge and pulled himself under it. It was much colder there, and eerie as well. He felt around in the darkness and found a sharp edge. He dug till a corner was exposed, then pulled at it. It moved enough to stir up the sediment, but not enough to break free.
Jamie’s lungs were almost empty. He held on to the last breath of air and pulled again at the sharp edge. It budged a little more, but the effort cost him his last reserve of air. His lungs felt like they’d been sucked flat and he had to fight the instinct to inhale. His vision clouded and his thoughts wobbled. He needed air.
Jamie pushed off the rock ledge and darted towards the surface. As his head bobbed up, he sucked in air, accidentally drawing in water too. Coughing and spluttering, he hauled himself back up to the top of the Dragon Rock.
He dived again, this time rationing his air on the way down, holding his lungs full until he clung to the ledge. He found the sharp edge easily and pulled, letting some air escape. The bubbles were trapped briefly under the ledge — tiny spheres that sparkled in the gloom.
Jamie finally dug the box free and carried it back to the surface. On the lake’s edge, he assessed his treasure. The box itself was unremarkable. It was pressed metal: shiny where it had been lodged in the silt and corroded to a rusty dullness where it had been exposed. It was edged in bronze, and it was this that had caught both the sun and his eye.
Jamie knew in his heart that this box was meant for him. He ran his hand over its surface and thought of his mother.
And then a horrible idea swept over him. He remembered the last time he’d recovered a box from the deep; the rogue spirit that had attacked his father.
He looked around for Jet. The monkey was perched atop the Moon Gate.
‘Jet,’ he called, ‘any reason I shouldn’t open this?’
The monkey looked at the box, looked blankly at Jamie, then went back to picking fleas from his fur. Jamie shrugged; that was good enough for him.
He tried the clasp on the front of the box. It was corroded shut. He picked at the flaking metal, but it held fast. He needed something stronger, sharper. He needed his dive knife.
Chapter 28
Jamie ran back to his room, the box clutched in his hands. He slowed to a walk near the dining pavilion so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself, then began running again the second he was past. He rounded the corner to the dormitories and ran straight into Lucy and Wing. The bowl Wing was carrying went flying, showering them all in rice before shattering on the ground.
‘Whoa,’ Wing said. ‘What’s with you? Hey, what’s in the box?’
Jamie put the box behind his back.
Lucy made a face. ‘Doesn’t change the fact we saw it, Jamie.’ Then she pointed at the food on the ground. ‘We thought you might be hungry since you missed lunch.’
‘Um, thanks,’ Jamie said.
‘Well,’ Wing said, ‘what’s in the box?’
Jamie relented and brought it out from behind his back. ‘I, um, found it, under the Dragon Rock.’
‘Just thought you’d do a quick bit of salvage before lunch?’ Wing teased.
‘No,’ Jamie said, turning red. He knew Wing didn’t mean it, but his words reminded Jamie of the years of accusations from Sai Chun’s fishermen. He looked at the box and said, ‘I think my mother hid this.’ He swallowed and looked at the box. ‘I think she knew I’d be able to find it.’
He looked up to see Wing and Lucy exchanging a look that made it clear they thought he was mad. Jamie felt silly. He should never have told them.
He pushed past them and into Wing’s room. He put the box on the long lacquered table and got his father’s dive knife from the chest. Lucy and Wing followed, hovering either side of him.
Jamie’s hand was shaking as he flicked the blade at the metal clasp. He kept missing so Wing held his hand out for the knife. Reluctantly Jamie gave it to him. Wing forced the blade under a big chunk of metal and pushed. The box slid away and the knife gouged a chunk out of the polished antique surface of the table.
Wing cringed and rubbed at the deep rut. ‘Do you think they’ll notice?’
Lucy and Jamie both nodded.
Jamie took the knife back and continued his slow and methodical approach. Finally the clasp came free.
‘Stand back,’ he told Lucy and Wing. If there was any chance of a spirit escaping the box, he wanted to make sure it found the right target.
Jamie spoke a silent prayer to the heavens and to his mother, then lifted the lid. He braced himself for a high-pressure hissing and a swarming of bugs, but there was nothing. Just the creak of the rusty hinge.
Jamie looked in the box; all that was there was a screwed-up piece of cloth. He pulled it out. It was damp and mouldy and smelled like rot. Lucy screwed up her nose.
Jamie put the cloth on the table and pushed back its folds until he found an edge. He guessed it had once been a creamy colour, not the yellowy-brown it was now. It was embroidered with tightly woven thread.
‘It’s very beautiful,’ Lucy said. ‘Well, it was once.’
The water had rotted the cloth at the creases and Jamie had to be careful not to tear it more as he eased it open. It was long and narrow, just like the silk banners that hung in the Celestial Hall.
‘It’s my mother’s,’ Jamie said.
As the three friends looked at each other, they all had the same thought. If this was Jamie’s mother’s life story, how did that story end? They looked at the bottom of the banner. But the final section had been torn away.
Jamie staggered back.
‘What is it?’ Lucy asked.
Never once taking his eyes from the jagged edge at the bottom of his mother’s silk banner, Jamie felt behind him for the sandalwood chest and the tapestry he had hidden there. With shaking hands, he placed his square piece at the base of the long panel. The contours matched. When he looked closer, though, he saw that it wasn’t completely the same. The top panel had tight shimmery stitches showing traditional symbols; his piece showed a cresting wave stitched clumsily in blue.
‘Where did that small piece come from?’ Lucy asked.
Jamie ran his fingers through the fraying edge just as he’d done when he was little. ‘My mother wrapped me in it when I was born.’
Lucy looked like she was trying to make sense of it. ‘And she hid the rest under the Dragon Rock?’
Jamie nodded. ‘I think she knew I’d be able to View through water.’
‘You can View through water?’ Wing blurted. ‘Man, you are so the Spirit Warrior.’
Lucy glared at Wing. ‘Go on,’ she said to Jamie.
Jamie continued, ‘Like Master Wu said, she knew what was going to happen before it did. I think she was a Recollector and if she knew her life plan, then maybe she knew mine too.’
Lucy examined the pieces of silk. ‘So she wanted you to find these pieces and put it together.’ She peered closely at the pattern. ‘What do you think she’s telling you?’
Wing was still caught up in Jamie’s skill. ‘You can really View underwater?’
‘Yes,’ Jamie said impatiently, then he looked at Wing. ‘Yes, I can see under the water.’ He smiled. ‘That’s it! I can see under the water.’
He grabbed his dive knife and jabbed the blade under the thick blue threads of the cresting wave.
‘Whoa,’ Wing said, ‘don’t ruin it. It’s from your mum.’
Jamie ignored him and pushed the blade till the blue threads gave way. He pulled at a loose end and it zigzagged across the wave, revealing something else underneath: a circular pattern stitched in shimmering gold. Inside the circle were the night sky’s constellations. At the outside edge, a ring of Imperial dragons chased each other through the clouds. The centre of the circle was blank.
‘What is it?’ Lucy breathed.
‘A message from my mother,’ Jamie said.
Wing
leaned in close. ‘Any idea what she’s on about?’
They had been examining the emblem for what felt like ages.
‘It looks like it could be a bi disc,’ Lucy said.
‘A what?’ Jamie asked.
Wing squinted at it. ‘Maybe. But why would it be on someone’s banner?’
Jamie looked from one to the other. ‘You want to tell me what you’re talking about?’
‘Oh, a bi disc,’ Lucy said, ‘they’re really old. The ancients used them to communicate with the spirits. They were mostly jade, sometimes bronze, occasionally other precious metals. My father collects them — they’re very expensive.’
‘Oh, of course,’ Wing said, ‘very expensive.’
Lucy turned the silk so she was looking at it the right way up. She leaned in close and her eyes grew wide. She looked at Jamie. ‘It’s not just any bi disc,’ she said. ‘It’s the symbol of the Spirit Warrior.’
Wing pulled it over to look. ‘Does that mean that Jamie’s mum is the Spirit Warrior?’
‘No, idiot,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s at the very end of her silk. It doesn’t mean she’s the Spirit Warrior; it means her child is.’
Jamie stumbled back.
Lucy and Wing turned to him, both of them pale.
‘But my guide …’ Jamie started to say as his mind raced. ‘When I Summoned the Way, Zheng didn’t come. I thought that meant he already had the Spirit Warrior. If I’m the Spirit Warrior, where’s my guide?’
Lucy and Wing looked blank.
Jamie thought of Bohai’s almanac, the typhoon and everything that was going wrong in the world. He remembered the vision he’d had in the temple at Sai Chun, the smashed dragon lantern, the vast empty feeling. He thought of what Master Wu said about Zheng: that he could cross between the realms.
As Jamie considered crossing between realms, he was struck by a thought. ‘Lucy,’ he said, ‘what do they say about the Ki-Lin?’
Wing answered for her, barely able to contain himself. ‘It announces the birth of someone great. Jamie, that’s you. You’re the Spirit Warrior. I knew it since you conjured the orb on the boat, I knew —’