by Laurence Yep
“Ah, but when the ground is prepared, you’ll be ready for many exciting lessons.” Mr. Hu chuckled as he reminisced. “Once, in Advanced Thaumochemistry, one of my potions went wrong, and I turned my fur and your grandmother’s hair a brilliant purple.”
Tom sat up eagerly. “What was the formula?”
“Hu!” Tom’s grandmother scolded again from the kitchen.
The tiger threw up his paws apologetically. “At any rate, take my word for it: You’ll find all this tedium worthwhile.”
Tom hoped so. Right now, there were thousands of years of the Lore to be learned, and it seemed that every new fact drove an old one from his memory.
As Mr. Hu tried to find something safe to discuss with him, Tom had a chance to study the visitor. He looked normal enough now—except for something that flickered in his eyes like a flame in dry grass that could erupt into a wildfire at any time.
Soon Mrs. Lee appeared with a heavy tray floating behind her through the air. On it were meat and shrimp pastries that she made herself. They gave off the most mouth-watering scents.
“And for tea”—she triumphantly held up a small pot with a dragon on the lid—“Dragon Well.”
Mr. Hu smacked his lips with pleasure. “You remembered my favorite.”
“I’ve thought of you far more than you’ve probably thought of me,” Tom’s grandmother said. When she lifted her hand, the teapot rose as if on invisible strings and started to pour the liquid into the cups.
“There wasn’t a day when I didn’t think of my time with you.” Mr. Hu leaned forward with his chopsticks to pick up one of the little meat pastries and set it on a small plate. “You were so kind and patient.”
“You had great promise as my successor,” Mrs. Lee said. Hurt was in her voice. “And yet you left.”
The tiger threw back his head proudly. “I wrestled with the choice for days, but in the end I could not abandon my clan.”
“A Guardian has no clan.” She raised a finger, and the newly filled cup rose into the air and then let itself be guided over to the tiger. “You misused my lessons for your feud, didn’t you?”
“Guilty.” Mr. Hu raised his cup in one hand and the pastry with his chopsticks in the other. “They say a leopard cannot change his spots.”
“Or a tiger his stripes.” The disapproval was plain in her voice. “Well, are you finished?”
“The Jackals are a stubborn lot, but we finally got them to sue for peace. They won’t trouble my clan for a long time.” The tiger took a bite of his pastry and then a sip of his tea. “Ah, this is sheer heaven.”
Tom heard an odd sound, like a truck motor idling. It took him a moment to realize that the visitor was purring.
“You were in a war?” Tom asked.
“Of a sort.” Mr. Hu nibbled at the pastry happily. “My clan has been feuding with the Jackals for centuries, and there’s many a Jackal who’s sorry for that.”
“The fight’s been going on that long?” Tom asked in surprise.
“And why shouldn’t it?” Mr. Hu asked, amused, as if war were as natural as a sunrise.
Tom wondered if Mr. Hu meant “jackals” figuratively or literally; he was going to ask, but his grandmother cleared her throat. “Force brings no true peace. Only a change of heart can.”
“Which was the hardest lesson for me to learn—far harder than the calculus of chants. Fighting is in my blood,” Mr. Hu said.
“Some of the greatest Guardians have been tigers,” Mrs. Lee said as she sent a cup of tea through the air to Tom. “They managed to tame the fire in their blood and turn it to nobler purposes.”
Mr. Hu smiled and shrugged. “I do not have their strength.”
“And so you’re going to sell antiques,” she said, picking up a cup of her own.
Mr. Hu chuckled from deep within his throat. “I find it as humorous as you do, but my uncle left the store to me. And with the peace now, I have to make my living somehow. I expect I’ll be bankrupt in six months.”
Tom’s grandmother arched an eyebrow and a shrimp pastry floated into her hand. “And so perhaps you’ll be able to resume pursuing the Lore. Guardians have been known to train several apprentices at the same time.”
Mr. Hu expertly balanced the tea on his free knee. “I am too old for lessons. Look at my fur. It’s all grizzled with gray. Master Thomas will make a far better successor than I ever could.”
“Tom’s still young,” his grandmother said, gazing at the tiger. “Why don’t you just speak the truth? You no longer want to be the Guardian.”
“You always understood my mind before I did.” Mr. Hu studied the ceiling thoughtfully, and when he lowered his head, he smiled. “But yes, I suppose I would like to end my days in peace. My fighting days are over.”
Tom glanced at the coral rose, which his grandmother kept in a place of pride. He didn’t see why anyone had to be the “Guardian” of something so ordinary.
“I just wish I knew why I was supposed to protect that,” he wondered aloud.
The corners of Mr. Hu’s mouth twitched up in a smile. “I can see you’re as impatient as I was at your age.”
Mrs. Lee laughed. “You two boys have more in common than a love of fighting.”
“So when did you learn the secret?” Tom asked the tiger.
Mr. Hu turned respectfully to Tom’s grandmother. “If Mistress Lee does not see fit to tell you, I don’t see how I can.”
“You’ll learn all in good time,” she promised.
But time had just run out.
Chapter 2
There was a loud cracking noise from the hallway followed by a tinkling sound. Then another and another. Suddenly a magical mirror shattered near the doorway. Tom saw the shining shards fall to the floor.
The next instant a strip of yellow paper with red pictures burst into flame. Jumping to his feet, Tom tossed the tea from his cup onto it, but no sooner had he done that than a strip next to it caught fire. Grabbing a pillow from the sofa, Tom beat at it.
Mr. Hu had sprung to his feet but was crouching by the window, peering out. “Who could do this despite your defenses?”
“Something stronger than my wards, and that means it’s very dangerous indeed.” His grandmother rose and from a wall, lifted down a sword of coins threaded together. It collapsed for a moment in a copper tangle in her hand, but it took on its shape again when she held it pointed at the floor. Her other hand raised a wand of peachwood. “Take the rose and Tom. Leave by way of the roof. I’ll make them think they’ve destroyed it.”
“No! We can fight them off together,” Mr. Hu insisted desperately.
Mrs. Lee’s gentle voice suddenly became as sharp and hard as a dagger. It was as if the kindly grandmother he had always known had only been the sheath hiding the blade within. “This is my last command as the Guardian.”
“But I am no longer your apprentice. I’m not listening to you!” Mr. Hu protested.
“You have the knowledge, and Tom is too young yet,” Tom’s grandmother said. “There is no one else to take my place right now.”
Mr. Hu lowered his head as if it had suddenly grown heavy. “I’ll avenge you.”
“No, a Guardian cannot follow selfish desires like vengeance,” Mrs. Lee said firmly. “You must protect the rose above all else.” Her eyes softened for a moment when she glanced at Tom and she added, “And my grandson, who is just as precious to me.”
Mr. Hu’s voice choked. “I swear I will.”
“Grandmom, what’s happening?” Tom asked, bewildered. “Who’s coming?”
“Go with Mr. Hu. Obey him as you would me. There isn’t time for explanations.” She wrapped an arm around him, and for a moment Tom could smell the warm kitchen scents that clung to her clothes. “But always remember: I love you, Tom.”
His grandmother had been the one thing in his life he could be certain about—like the sun and the moon—with her treats and kind words. Tom clung to her tightly now. “But I don’t want to go without you.
”
His grandmother shoved him away and used her stern voice again. “Don’t argue.”
Tom hardly recognized her. “What can you do alone? You should leave with us.”
For a moment, his grandmother’s voice grew softer. “These others will find more than they bargained for.”
Her words didn’t assure Tom, or Mr. Hu, who seemed almost at the point of tears. “Are you determined to stay?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Lee said, and strode over to the shelves of curios. “I now pass this on to you.”
With great solemnity she lifted the little coral rose from the shelf and held it out.
Clapping his derby on his head, the tiger took the rose reverently; when he spoke, his voice was husky with emotion. “I accept. But only temporarily until I can return it to you.”
“Perhaps”—she smiled—“but if not, the burden will be yours.”
The tiger shook his head sadly. “No, not this way . . .”
“You have your orders.” She paced with great dignity to the middle of the room, her braid swinging behind her back like a gray pendulum. “You’ll find bags in the kitchen. Put the rose in one of those to hide it on the street.” She had trouble trying to kneel because of her arthritis. “One last lesson to you: In the battles to come, trust your wits rather than your claws.”
Tom tried to go to her, but Mr. Hu put a paw on his shoulder. “You mustn’t distract the Guardian,” he warned.
Bending, she began to trace patterns on the floor with her wand as she murmured strange words. Where the tip touched, the boards glowed with blue fire. In the intricate star pattern, strange curls and shapes began to appear and swirl about.
“Grandmom,” Tom whispered, but she did not look at him, concentrating on the task at hand.
“Come,” Mr. Hu said. As he pulled Tom out of the room, Tom glanced behind them.
His grandmother was now standing in the center of the fiery design, and as she raised the sword, it stood straight up, burning with a coppery flame.
“Hurry,” Mr. Hu urged.
They stopped long enough to take a pink plastic bag from a neat pile in a corner of the kitchen. Reverently, Mr. Hu stowed the rose inside and then led them up the stairs. He seemed to know the house as well as Tom did, and he only slowed when they reached the last narrow staircase that led to the roof.
Glass crashed below them. Tom twisted on the step to go back, but Mr. Hu grabbed his arm. “You have your orders as well, Master Thomas,” the tiger said.
“Let me go,” Tom cried as he struggled to break free, but the tiger’s grip was too strong. “I have to help Grandmom.”
Mr. Hu bent over so Tom could look straight into his great amber eyes. “Listen to me, Master Thomas. This is not a playground fight against other boys. You can’t help your grandmother against these kinds of enemies. You’ll only be in her way if you go down there now.”
Tom wanted to argue. But he didn’t know much magic. He was willing to stand up to school bullies, but what could he do against whatever terrors were coming? Mr. Hu was right: Tom was useless.
The tiger drew the miserable boy up the remaining steps as thuds and thumps rose from underneath them.
Keeping hold of Tom with one paw, Mr. Hu unlocked the door and opened it a crack. He sniffed the air cautiously and his whiskers fanned out stiffly as he caught a scent. “Do exactly as I say, Master Thomas, or you’ll die,” he growled in a voice that was not to be disobeyed.
Tom kept glancing behind him back toward his grandmother. “Will she be okay?”
“Come,” was all the tiger said, tucking the bag with the rose inside his vest. Then he opened the door a little wider, crouching as his eyes darted about.
Tom saw powerful muscles ripple beneath the tailored cloth and daggerlike claws shoot out from the pads of the tiger’s paws. When Mr. Hu dropped to all fours, the elegant dandy who had first greeted him had become the tiger he truly was—though still in his suit and hat.
Tom hesitated as the tiger slunk out onto the shingled roof. “Hurry, Master Thomas,” Mr. Hu commanded in a low, powerful voice.
Telling himself that his grandmother trusted the tiger, Tom stepped out onto the shingles. Mr. Hu had no trouble slipping down the sharp slope, but Tom had to hold his arms out to balance himself. They had crossed halfway when Tom saw a thin black V appear on the shingles. It was the shadow of something—something that was coming fast as the V grew and grew.
“Don’t look up. Keep going, Master Thomas,” Mr. Hu whispered as his powerful shoulders tensed.
Tom forced his arms and legs to move, though they felt as stiff as a marionette’s. Suddenly Mr. Hu snapped, “Duck.”
As Mr. Hu dropped to his belly, Tom flung himself face-down. However, he couldn’t resist turning his head to take a peek. What he saw made his mouth drop open.
A strange, twisted little man was plummeting down toward them. The man had an enormous bird’s beak for a nose and cruel, beady black eyes. His huge feathery wings seemed to blot out the sun.
Tom had seen pictures like this in of one in his grandmother’s books and that had been scary enough, but nothing had prepared him for the real thing—the eyes burning with hate, the deadly talons and sharp beak.
As Mr. Hu’s powerful legs sent him springing high into the air toward the monster, Tom saw a second shadowy V growing larger and larger. There were two of the creatures! And this one was diving from behind the unaware tiger.
Tom would have been willing to fight anything human; this was different. But Mr. Hu was his grandmother’s friend. For her sake he had to do something.
Despite the fact he wanted to hide, the shamefaced boy forced himself to jump up, punching at the air. “Go away!” he shouted.
The second bird-man glared at him and from his mouth rose a bloodcurdling shriek. Tom flailed at the monster, but the great wings knocked him like a doll, first to the left and then to the right and then down the roof. He slid faster and faster until his feet struck the gutter. The trough broke from the fascia boards with a groan and a creak as the metal gutter bent, but it stopped his plummet.
At least, Tom thought, he had bought some time for the tiger. Mr. Hu slashed with his paw, and his claws sliced across the neck of the first creature. The tiger twisted his body in the air, letting the swing of his paw carry him in a half circle. As lithe as an Olympic gymnast, he struck the second creature in the throat. Tom cringed, expecting to be showered with blood, but where the creatures had been were now only fluttering pieces of paper. As a bit landed on a shingle, Tom saw that it was part of a cutout in the shape of the flying monster.
As he tried desperately to stop from sliding off the roof, Tom called over his shoulder, “Help me.”
A growl answered him. Tom twisted his head and saw that Mr. Hu was still crouched on the roof, body tensed for another spring, fangs exposed, wild eyes searching for his next prey. All the gentlemanly manners had evaporated, leaving a wild beast in a costume that could barely contain his powerful body.
Astonished, Tom stared at Mr. Hu as, ears flattened against his skull, the tiger’s eyes hunted the skies for enemies as deep, deadly growls rumbled from his belly. But then, as his gaze swept over the rooftop, he finally caught sight of the boy about to go over the edge. With a great effort, he relaxed his body and raised his head, his ears rising up again. “I’m . . . I’m—” the tiger seemed to struggle to remember how to speak “—I’m coming, Master Thomas.”
He padded easily down the shingles and extended a paw; when Tom just stared at it with wide eyes, the tiger grew impatient. “Hurry up. What’s the matter?” The tiger glanced down and then said sheepishly, “Oh.” He retracted the claws into the pad.
With no other choice Tom reluctantly took the paw and let himself be pulled up beside the tiger.
“What were those things? Paper dolls?” Tom asked, bewildered.
“To be more exact, they were imitations of a monster, but just as deadly.” With swift swipes of his claws, he shredded
what was left of the paper. “Now hurry.”
His grandmother had mentioned monsters and the darker magic, but she had never gone into detail, concentrating instead on the basics that Tom was to master. So until then magic had seemed more like a hobby.
Numbly, he stumbled after the tiger, who was crossing the roof to a fire escape. Glancing around, Mr. Hu began to descend the rungs. Tom felt dizzy as he looked down the three stories.
Mr. Hu glanced up anxiously. “We mustn’t waste the time that your grandmother is purchasing for us.”
Tom turned around so his face could be to the wall. Then he stuck out a foot and groped blindly for the first rung.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t take all day!” Mr. Hu growled. Tom almost screamed when he felt the tiger seize his foot in a paw, but Mr. Hu was only guiding it to the ladder.
As he climbed down, Tom tried to look straight ahead of him at the wall boards rather than below. Somehow he made it to the alley, which was so narrow that the tiger had to slide along sideways after he had disguised himself once again as a human gentleman.
“I’m getting too old for this,” Mr. Hu groaned when they were on the street, and he swung one arm in a slow circle. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow. And I’m not as quick as I used to be. In my youth I would have been more watchful and not let another enemy sneak up on me when I was distracted by the first.” When Tom started to head for the nearest house, the tiger grabbed his shoulder. “Not that way. We need to leave this spot.”
Tom pulled away. Now that he had seen the powerful tiger in action, he wouldn’t have stood near him any more than he would have gone into the tiger cage at the zoo. “I’ll go and call the police.”
Mr. Hu clutched the bag tightly in one hand. “Your grandmother doesn’t want that any more than the thieves do. We have to put as much distance between ourselves and the house as possible. Besides, what do you think they could do against our enemies?”
Tom thought of the flying monsters. He wasn’t sure. “So what do we do?”
“We get the rose to safety,” the tiger said. “And then we plan our revenge.”