by Laurence Yep
“I asked Mr. Hu,” Tom said. He tried to find a clean piece, but there weren’t any.
“But why?” Mistral said. “You said I was greedy.”
“You’re still a guest.” Tom shrugged.
Mistral slowly smiled. “You’re much like your grandmother, Mistress Lee.”
Knowing how highly the dragon regarded his grandmother, Tom felt bad when he looked at the broken cakes. “I wanted to have something for you when you came to visit—just like she would have. But now the cakes are all dirty.”
“In my wanderings, I’ve found that dirt adds spice to some things.” And she tossed the bit into her mouth and chewed, savoring the flavor.
“I hope you don’t get sick,” Tom said anxiously as he handed the other fragments to the dragon.
“Old iron gut?” Monkey said as he slouched against a wall. “Not a chance. Dragons are even better gluttons than they are braggarts.”
Eagerly Mistral reached beyond Tom to snatch up the bag. “When every hand and paw were raised against me and I first began wandering the land, your grandmother was kind to me. I’ve treasured her memory in all my troubles. And you are as kind as she was.”
Tom watched as the dragon greedily finished off the rest of the cakes. His grandmother would definitely have been pleased.
“Are you all right, boy?” Monkey asked. “There’s blood on your face.”
Sure enough when Tom put a hand to his forehead, he felt a wetness. “I can feel a bump but not a cut.”
Monkey pointed to the storefront. “There are some drops of blood, but I guess not yours.”
“The blood must be Räv’s,” Tom said, finally remembering the girl. “There was some kind of monster chasing her. The monster must have gotten her as well.” He wiped his sleeve over the bump.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Hu roared from the store. “There’s blood on the floor! Master Thomas, are you all right?”
Tom turned in surprise. Perhaps the Guardian really did care about him after all.
“I’m okay,” Tom called to him.
“Thank heaven for that,” Mr. Hu said fervently as he came to the doorway into the rear apartment.
Sidney peered from around the tiger’s legs and let out a whistle. “Geez, time to do some spring cleaning, Mr. H.” He started to dig around in his fur. “I got a nice assortment of dustpans and whisk brooms in here somewhere.”
“The rose!” The tiger hunched as fur, claws, and fangs appeared again; he sprang into the room, his hind paws crunching on the broken bits of tablet. He stood for a moment staring down at it in horror. “Whoever did this will pay!”
Raising a paw, he unsheathed his claws and his tail began to whip back and forth like a snake. He fell on all fours, crouching, ears flat and tight against his skull, once again the jungle animal Tom had seen in the battle with the monsters on his grandmother’s roof.
The boy shrank back, afraid, but the dragon took the transformation calmly enough as she said, “You can be sure of that.”
With a growl, Mr. Hu spun around. “I would have sworn my wards would hold.” Suddenly he caught sight of Tom and he forced himself to straighten up. “What happened to the door, Master Thomas?”
Tom wanted to crawl into the nearest hole, but he thought of what his grandmother had done when the monsters had come and instead forced himself to face the tiger. “There was this girl being chased by a monster. I’m sorry. I had to take the charm from the door,” Tom said, and told the tiger briefly what had happened. Then he waited for the tiger to explode.
Instead, Mr. Hu heaved a deep sigh. “I see. The thief used the threat against the girl to make you open the door—but you did right. I don’t see that you had any choice. You could not stand by and let an innocent person suffer.” To Tom’s surprise, Mr. Hu patted him approvingly on the shoulder. “Do you remember what this thief looked like?”
When Tom had finished describing the monster, Mr. Hu glanced at Mistral. “It sounds like Loo.”
“Especially the umbrella.” The dragon nodded, and glanced at the boy. “It’s a good thing you avoided it. When it’s opened, it sends out fumes full of such foul diseases that you would die in an instant.”
“And Loo serves Vatten,” Monkey said.
“Worse and worse,” Mistral said, shaking her head.
“Who’s Vatten?” Tom asked.
“When he was known as the Storm Sentry, he was Kung Kung’s closest lieutenant,” Mistral said somberly. “He’s a master of shape-shifting who has never stopped seeking revenge for his master. When the rebellion was crushed, he fooled his pursuers into thinking he was dead. Over the centuries, he has adopted many names and forms. Vatten is his latest. He’ll use the phoenix to force everyone to do what he wants. And what he wants is total chaos.”
Monkey looked grim for once. “It could be the end of the world.”
“Not ‘could,’” Mistral said darkly. “It will be.”
Sidney pounded one paw against another. “Well, we’ll just have to get the rose back then.”
Mr. Hu pounced, snatching the rat up by the scruff of his neck. “How much did they pay you to lead me away, Sidney?”
Kicking his hind paws uselessly in the air, the rat squealed desperately, “No, no, I’d never double-cross a partner.”
“Until someone pays you more,” the tiger growled, baring wicked-looking fangs.
“Mr. H,” Sidney said, raising his bald pink tail indignantly, “I got my standards.”
“And every one of them has the picture of Benjamin Franklin on it,” Mr. Hu said, rubbing the claws of his free paw together as if he was holding money.
Sidney’s tail dangled sadly in the air. “Mr. H,” the rat said, grieved, “is that what you really think of me?”
“It’s only a small part,” Mr. Hu snapped. “And I don’t have time to tell you all the rest.” Mr. Hu jerked his head at Tom. “There’s some cord over in that corner that I use for wrapping packages. Get it.”
“What are you doing, Mr. H?” Sidney gasped as he began to wriggle frantically.
“Putting you away so you can’t tell your master,” Mr. Hu said.
Tom found the bundle of cord and brought it over to the tiger, who tied up the struggling rat like a parcel.
“Let me come with you,” Sidney begged. “You need me.”
“You’ve helped enough already,” Mr. Hu declared. He deposited the rat inside the vault. “You should have enough air in there if you don’t talk. We’ll let you out—if your master lets us live.”
“I can help you,” Sidney squealed as Mr. Hu closed the vault door with a thud.
Sure that the rat could not hear them through the thick door, Mr. Hu told the others, “The spy that asked about Master Thomas left a trail that leads to a mansion by the sea. Perhaps that’s where the thieves went also.”
Monkey had taken a metal toothpick from behind his ear and was using it to scratch his cheek. “The spy was a diversion. Maybe their lair is too.”
“Vatten’s element is water, so he draws strength from it,” Mistral said. “He’ll be even more powerful close to the ocean.”
“Even if it’s not their lair, there are bound to be tracks and clues there,” Monkey reasoned, “that would lead us to the thieves.”
“Or to a trap,” Mr. Hu said thoughtfully.
Monkey tucked the toothpick back behind his ear. “Well, if this is all we have, it’s to their lair we’ll go.”
Raising a paw, Mistral swore, “The thieves will be sorry.” Tom thought she had never looked more deadly and yet never more beautiful.
Tom started to think of all the terrible things that could happen. So, although he was scared of monsters, he said shakily, “I want to go too.”
Mr. Hu clasped his paws behind his back. “Master Thomas, you said you wanted to quit when I came back. What’s changed your mind?”
After hearing how dangerous Loo could be, Tom would have liked nothing better than to leave, but he had to ask. “Was
Loo the one who attacked Grandmom?”
“He would be powerful enough to have harmed the Guardian,” Mr. Hu said.
“Then,” Tom said after taking a deep breath, “I want to catch Loo and get my grandmom’s rose and Räv back. Maybe they’ve hurt her.”
Mr. Hu studied the boy but finally shook his head. “It’s too dangerous for you to accompany us to face Loo. You’re not ready.”
“It’ll be more dangerous if Loo keeps the rose,” Tom argued.
“The boy is right,” Mistral said. “Once the phoenix hatches, Vatten can use it to force everyone to do what he wants. There will be safety for none. His place is by your side.”
Surprised and grateful, Tom looked at the dragon. Despite his harsh words at the Square, she was standing up for him.
“But he’s barely begun his lessons,” Mr. Hu argued.
“Dragons live such a long time that we know a bit more about destiny than most creatures,” Mistral said quietly. “I believe both your fates are tied together with the rose.”
Mr. Hu thought about it a good long time before he finally nodded. “Very well.”
When the magical creatures had each transformed into human shape, they left the store. Behind them, Tom could still hear the little rat squeaking from the vault.
“Shouldn’t we give him some water at least?” Tom asked.
“He’s got a better chance than we do.” For once even Monkey looked serious. “But it’s exciting times ahead, however you look at it.”
Chapter 7
“Why do we have to catch a bus again?” Tom asked Mr. Hu as they waited by the stop.
Mr. Hu arched a bushy eyebrow. “You may walk, if you want.”
“Can’t you work a spell or something that will take us wherever we’re going?” Tom demanded. “Aren’t we in a hurry?”
Mr. Hu tugged irritably at his goatee. “Those kind of spells exhaust the magician, and I must save all my strength for the coming battle.”
“Well”—Tom glanced at Mistral—“maybe we could hitch a ride on someone’s back.”
“I’m not running a taxi service,” Mistral snapped. “We dragons were among the first creatures who woke when this world was created.”
“And have never stopped bragging about it,” Monkey observed.
Mr. Hu stepped between them before they continued the quarrel. “Let’s save our anger for the thieves, shall we?”
“I will,” Mistral said through gritted teeth, “but if we survive, that monkey is going to be so sorry.”
Mr. Hu turned to Monkey. “And don’t play the fool. Dragons have long memories. They’re famous for carrying on feuds for millennia.”
Monkey scratched his curly sideburns sheepishly. “I know, but I can’t help it. She fumes so nicely.” But the ape was noticeably silent as they waited at the bus stop.
The 30 Stockton was crowded as usual, but through magic or persistence, they forced their way between the humans packed like sardines in the electric trolley. The 38 Geary was only slightly better. As they passed through the Inner Richmond, Tom looked in the direction of his grandmother’s house. It was just as well, he decided, that it wasn’t near the bus route. He couldn’t bear to see the blackened hole that was all that remained.
By that time the bus had begun to empty out and they were able to find seats, Tom with Mr. Hu. “Is Mistral always so touchy?”
“Dragons are naturally proud, and she has more reason than most to guard her honor,” Mr. Hu said, “for that’s about all that she has since she was exiled from the dragon kingdom. Some of the scars on her body are not from battles but from the time when her marks of rank and honors were scraped off.”
Tom remembered the Guardian’s conversation with his friend at Goblin Square. “Because she insulted the king of all the dragons?” When the disguised tiger nodded, he asked curiously, “Why did she?”
Mr. Hu glanced at his friend and then said in a low voice, “Even the Dragon King can never be sure of his throne. He had a general who was very successful against their enemies.”
“Vatten’s followers?” Tom asked.
“Perhaps, but there are also others who would challenge the dragons for control of the seas. They raid the borders and towns. But this general was the shield against them all.” Mr. Hu settled back in the seat. “However, there were dragons at court who were jealous of his honors and told the Dragon King that the general was too successful and too ambitious, and that one day he would take the throne from the Dragon King. The Dragon King was ever mindful of rebels, and so he had the general executed.”
“But that’s crazy,” Tom said.
Mr. Hu shrugged. “You can look to your own history. There was General Belisarius, who served the Byzantine emperor Justinian. And there was General Pan Ch’ao, who served the Han emperor. Though they were as loyal as they were successful, their rulers turned on them. Dragon rulers are just as insecure over their thrones. It was very unwise of Mistral to tell the high king he was a lazy clown for what he did.”
“I would have called that king worse things,” Tom said, glancing at the dragon, who sat at the back of the bus.
“And you would have been executed instead of exiled.” Mr. Hu began to comb his goatee. The dandyish tiger could never resist grooming himself for very long.
“Why wasn’t she?” Tom asked.
“She’d been of service to the dragon kingdom herself,” Mr. Hu explained. “It might have been kinder to have killed her instead of banishing her from the sea. She has led a difficult life, so she doesn’t trust many. You should take it as a great compliment that she thinks well of you.”
They got off the bus at the end of the line. Here the houses were jammed shoulder to shoulder right up to the sidewalk so that the street seemed to be lined with stucco walls. On several homes Tom saw a strange graffiti. It looked like a big number nine but with a curly snake’s tail.
“Do you see that?” Mistral muttered to them.
Mr. Hu let out a growl as he stared at the design. “Things are far worse than I thought.”
“What’s wrong?” Tom asked nervously.
Alert and tense again, Mr. Hu turned his head from left to right as he checked the street. “Vatten’s first form was a nine-headed serpent, and that mark became the symbol of his rebellion. His followers still use it. That’s why they call themselves the Clan of the Nine.”
“But never openly,” Monkey said, looking solemn.
Mr. Hu warned, “We have to be extremely careful.”
They followed the street until it ended abruptly at a small park on a hilltop overlooking the ocean. A mansion sat in the middle. Tall eucalyptus trees grew around the park’s edge, littering the ground with long, pink, fingerlike leaves and fragrant nuts. Now that they were out of sight, they paused long enough for Mr. Hu and the others to change into their true shapes.
Mr. Hu snuffled irritably and rubbed his paw over his nose. “Blast. I can’t smell a thing with all this menthol from the eucalyptus. It’s like having my nose stuck in a bottle of medicine.” He looked around and sighed. “And there aren’t any seagulls either. That’s odd because there are always some scavenging by the sea.”
The tiger started forward purposefully, but Mistral stomped a paw down on his tail to stop him. “You’re the Guardian now,” she scolded in a low voice, “so it’s time to start thinking like one. You can’t lead the charge anymore.”
Mr. Hu yanked his tail free indignantly. “You ought to know me after all these years. I can’t just sit in safety while others risk their lives.”
Mistral glanced at the mansion and said dryly, “I believe there will be enough danger for everyone before we’re done with Vatten.”
“Maybe I should go first,” Monkey whispered.
Mr. Hu rubbed the back of his neck in frustration and his tail whipped back and forth. It was obvious that he was fighting his own natural instincts. “All right,” he growled reluctantly, “but no showing off.” As Monkey moved off with a nod, th
e tiger ordered Tom to follow him.
It was Mistral’s turn to object. “Only cowards are placed in the rear.”
“You said yourself no place is safe. We have no idea how our enemies are going to strike,” the tiger said. “And if I must forget my pride, so must you.”
Mistral dipped her head grudgingly, but they could hear her grumbling softly behind them.
Tom did his best to move quietly, but no matter how hard he tried, he kept stepping on the leaves that littered the dirt.
Mr. Hu’s tail grew still as he stared ahead. Feeling nervous, Tom slid in closer.
Monkey was crouching, waiting for them at the edge of the trees. There must have been a lawn once, but weeds now grew almost waist high, their tips bending over with dew. Fat bushes rose out of them like silent green explosions. From not very far away, they heard the crash of surf against rocks.
Mistral raised her head eagerly. “I can hear the ocean. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so close to home.” She wagged her tail like a dog. Vatten, it seemed, was not the only one who drew energy from the sea.
For once Monkey glanced sympathetically at the dragon. “The Dragon King’s punishment was a harsh one.”
“If I’d known how hard exile from the kingdom would be, I might have chosen death instead,” the dragon grunted.
“Knowing how you hold your honor so dear, you would have done the same,” Mr. Hu said.
Mistral sighed. “But the ocean calls me. The beating of the waves is like the beating of my heart. It was a mistake for me to come this near to it again.”
Tom put a hand sympathetically on the dragon’s side. “It must be hard to be homesick.”
“That’s such a tame word for what I feel. ‘Come to me,’ the sea is whispering. It’s in my blood. I’ve avoided the ocean for just this reason.”
“I’m sorry that my need has brought you here,” Mr. Hu said, and then offered, “I could put a spell on you.”
Mistral drew a ragged breath. “No. The sea is in every dragon. I cannot ignore what I am.” Her tail lashed nervously. “But it will take much of my strength.”