Dragonkeeper

by Carole Wilkinson

  As she ran, thoughts flashed through her mind—fear that she was about to die, plans for escape, concern that she hadn’t washed her master’s dishes from his midday meal. These thoughts collided with each other, exploded half finished and popped out of existence. One thought was still and clear at the centre of her confusion. She had to save the dragon. She ran to the animals’ courtyard, where the dragon was still tethered, enjoying the sunlight.

  “Quick!” shouted the girl, undoing the rope with fumbling fingers. “You have to escape. There’s a dragon hunter here at Huangling.”

  The dragon didn’t move.

  “Hurry! You’re free now. The imperial guards will be here at any moment.” She paused to catch her breath. “The dragon hunter will chop up your liver and cut out your heart.” She tugged the rope which still hung from the dragon’s neck. “You just have time to get to the gate and escape.”

  But the creature wouldn’t budge. He obviously didn’t understand a word she was saying.

  “Move, you stupid beast!” she shouted, flicking him on the rump with the end of the rope.

  The dragon was making anxious noises, like someone banging a gong as fast as they could.

  “Stone.” Words were forming unbidden in her mind. “Dragon stone.”

  Somehow the girl knew for certain that the dragon wanted the purple stone.

  “Leave the stone,” she shouted, trying to pull the awkward creature towards the gate. “Save yourself.”

  The girl couldn’t bear the thought of another dead dragon, but the great beast refused to do as she said. He kept straining against the rope, pulling back towards the pit. There was nothing she could do to make him move. She had to think of her own safety. The guards would be coming in search of her. She had to find somewhere to hide—at least until the Emperor and his guards left the palace. She dropped the end of the rope and was making towards the gate when she suddenly remembered Hua. She couldn’t leave without him. He was just a rat, but he was her friend—her only friend. He was a clever rat. Whenever the Dragonkeeper caught sight of him and chased him with the fire poker, he would hide in the one place Lan never went—in the dragon pit.

  The girl ran back to the pit and down the steps. It was the last place she wanted to be. The late afternoon light dimly lit a square underneath the grate, but no more. She didn’t have a lamp. She felt her way into the darkness, arms outstretched, stumbling over the uneven floor. She called out to Hua. She could hear a faint squeaking far back in the depths of the pit. Her hands touched the pit wall. Her fingers rested on something cool and round. The dragon stone. Sharp claws dug into the thin fabric of her trousers, pricking her skin underneath. She smiled to herself as Hua burrowed into the folds of her jacket. Her hands were still on the cool stone. She picked it up and ran back to the light and up the steps two at a time.

  She climbed out of the pit as six imperial guards, all in red tunics, ran into the courtyard and surrounded the dragon. Some had spears, others had swords. All the weapons were aimed at the dragon. The beast’s gonging sounds rang out. The dragon hunter wasn’t far behind the guards. When he saw the dragon, he stopped dead and stared at the creature. He moved slowly towards it and the girl could see the greed in his ugly face as he calculated its worth. He held a crossbow aimed at the dragon.

  “No!” the girl cried. “Don’t hurt him.”

  The dragon hunter laughed. It was a harsh, joyless sound. He walked towards the dragon, put down his crossbow and pulled a length of iron chain from his belt.

  “Iron burns,” thought the girl, though she knew for a fact this wasn’t true.

  Diao wrapped the chain around the dragon’s forelegs to hobble him. The dragon’s gonging sounds grew louder, faster, higher pitched until they fused together in a screech like tearing metal. The sound echoed around the courtyard. The girl dropped the dragon stone and covered her ears in a useless attempt to block it out. But the screams that filled her mind were worse. She was dimly aware of the stone rolling in the dusty courtyard until it came to a stop against the water trough. The meaningless cries of pain in her mind started to form into words.

  “Dragon stone. Save stone.” The words were inside her mind, but she had the distinct impression that they were coming from the dragon.

  The chains were chaffing the dragon’s scaly skin, which was raw and bleeding as if he had been chained for months, not minutes.

  Diao saw the stone lying in the dust. He turned to the guards.

  “Make fast the chains,” he ordered.

  The guards hesitated for a moment, unsure if they should take orders from the rough hunter.

  “Do as I say,” shouted Diao. “The Emperor’s dragon must be secured.”

  The guards jumped to obey, their duty to the Emperor clear.

  The dragon hunter went to pick up the dragon stone. His face had the triumphant look of a greedy man getting more than he deserved. The slave girl moved quicker. She ran towards the stone and picked it up with her left hand. The dragon reared up on his hind legs and flung aside the chain which the guards were still struggling to fasten. He kicked the guards out of his way. Diao hesitated, looking from dragon to stone. For a moment it seemed he couldn’t decide which was more important. He dived for his crossbow as the girl darted across the courtyard.

  “Chain the dragon!” shouted Diao and he ran after the girl.

  The dragon hunter caught up with her in three strides. He had his crossbow in one hand. With his free hand he grabbed hold of her arm with a grip that threatened to break her bones. The dragon was making the angry rumbling sound the girl had heard him make in the pit when she had picked up the stone. The creature lumbered stiffly across the courtyard, trampling two guards and appeared to be about to run into the wall of the ox shed. Then two leathery wings, like large bats’ wings, opened out from the dragon’s back. The guards stared in amazement as the dragon lifted himself into the air and flew above the stables. Now it was Diao’s turn to cry out in anguish as he watched his prize escape.

  The dragon banked in midair and swooped back. He was diving towards the courtyard. Guards leapt out of his way, but the girl just stared in wonder. The wings had been so tightly folded, she hadn’t even noticed them before. Diao let go of the girl and took aim with his crossbow. A crossbow bolt flashed towards the dragon and smacked into his shoulder. The dragon’s arc faltered. He dropped lower, swooping over the girl’s head. She thought he was going to crash into the courtyard, but she felt something sharp dig through the cloth of her jacket into her back. Then the ground disappeared beneath her and her feet grazed the roof of the ox shed. She saw Master Lan outside his house looking up and shaking his fist at her as imperial guards grabbed him. He mouthed words of rage which she couldn’t hear. Lan and the guards shrank to the size of small statues. The stables became boxes. The black roofs of the palace were beneath her. They looked like the shells of shiny black beetles. The slave girl felt ill.

  “Put me down, dragon,” she yelled, still gripping the dragon stone tightly. “I want to be back on the ground.”

  The dragon made a sharp turn and the girl’s heart lurched in her chest.

  “I’m going to be sick,” she shouted as they left the palace behind. The very peak of Huangling Mountain passed beneath them.

  The dragon followed the ridge of the mountain. Then the mountain suddenly dipped and swayed as the dragon picked a spot to land. The girl screamed and closed her eyes.

  “I’m going to die,” she said to herself.

  “No,” said a voice in her mind.

  The dragon started working his legs and landed at a run. He dropped the girl gently in a drift of snow. His legs were left behind as they hit the ground and he fell forward and slid to a stop on his nose.

  The girl felt the earth beneath her with relief. Her fingers, stiff with cold, were still clutching the dragon stone. Then she dropped the stone in the snow and grasped at her jacket as if she’d felt a sudden pain. Had she lost Hua during the flight? Had she squashed h
im to death when she landed? She pulled open the neck of her jacket. The rat was still there. He looked dazed, but otherwise alright. She looked over at the dragon who was getting groggily to his feet.

  “You could have killed me…and Hua!” she shouted.

  With his right forepaw, the dragon grasped the crossbow bolt still protruding from his left shoulder and pulled it out. Then he set off with unsteady steps.

  “Where are you going?” asked the girl.

  The dragon made one of his strange metallic sounds.

  A word formed in her mind. “Cave.”

  Snow began to fall. The girl had no choice. She followed him. They trudged on for an hour or more. Finally the dragon found the cave he was looking for.

  Once inside, the dragon collapsed from exhaustion. The girl’s clothes were wet and her teeth were chattering. She was shivering violently and her head ached. She crawled up to the dragon. His scaly body was hard and rough. Close up he had a rather unpleasant smell, like a mixture of overripe plums and fish brine, but he did give off some warmth.

  • chapter five •

  FEAR OF FLYING

  “Imperial guards!” said the dragon. “Hide!”

  The dragon paw pulled her behind a rock which was

  just large enough to hide a girl and a crouching dragon.

  When the slave girl woke, she was lying in a nest of warm, dry moss. She struggled to her feet, surprised at how wobbly her legs felt. There was no sign of the dragon. Laid in a neat row on the cave floor were three dead thrushes, a bunch of cereal grasses, a few mushrooms and a bundle of dry grass and twigs. She stepped over them and went to the mouth of the cave. The clouds had disappeared. The dragon was sitting in the sun examining his wings. They were undamaged. He turned towards the girl. His eyes had lost their yellow cast and were a warm brown. The metallic sounds rumbled from deep in his chest. As well as these sounds, which she heard with her ears, she also heard a voice inside her mind.

  “Fire. Need fire.”

  The girl could hardly understand what had happened to her since the previous day, but making a fire and preparing food were familiar, reassuring activities. She selected two sticks and some of the dry grass and knelt down to make a flame. She soon had the grass smouldering and built up a fire. While she waited for the smoke to die down and glowing coals to form, she plucked the birds. Then she skewered them with a sharp stick and cooked them over her fire. She picked the grains from their stalks and roasted them in the ashes with the mushrooms. She handed two of the birds to the dragon. They might not be at the palace, but it was still her job to feed the dragon.

  “Thank you,” said the voice in her mind.

  They ate in silence and then quenched their thirst from a pool near the cave mouth where melting snow had collected in a small depression in the rock. She couldn’t keep her thoughts on familiar activities though. They kept rushing back to the impossible events of the previous day.

  “Since the night of the pickling, I’ve been hearing a voice in my head,” the girl said. “Is that you?”

  The dragon inclined his head. He was watching her carefully, assessing her reactions. How could she have been stupid enough to think he was an animal no more intelligent than an ox or a goat?

  “Why didn’t I ever hear you before?”

  “Never spoke.”

  The girl watched as the creature carefully picked up one of the mushrooms. The inner talons on each paw could bend towards each other, just like a finger and thumb. He placed the mushroom in his mouth.

  “Do you have a name, dragon?”

  The creature made more metallic sounds. In her mind she heard the dragon’s voice. “Everyone has name.”

  Hua scurried back from his search for food, attracted by the smell of cooking meat. He stopped dead when he saw the dragon staring down at him.

  “Even rat has name.”

  “I don’t,” replied the girl.

  “Do.” The word echoed around inside her mind.

  Hua scrabbled up her clothing and into her jacket.

  She looked into the dragon’s eyes. “How do you know?”

  The creature reached out a paw and extended one of his talons towards her neck. The girl shrank back. Hua burrowed under her armpit. The talon was razor-sharp and could have cut her throat as easily as the Emperor’s kitchen hands sliced beef.

  ”Do not be afraid,” said the dragon voice.

  The dragon’s talon flicked out the bamboo square that hung around her neck. The girl looked down at the character that was carved into the bamboo. It was almost worn away.

  “What does it say?” Her voice was just a whisper.

  “Ping,” the dragon voice said.

  “Is that my name?”

  The dragon inclined his head again.

  “Ping,” the slave girl repeated.

  “Parents gave you this name,” said the dragon.

  Tears filled Ping’s eyes as she said her name over and over again. Many people had two names. Some important people even had three. She was happy to finally have one.

  “Thank you for giving me my name.” She reached out and scratched the dragon in the soft spot under his chin.

  “You didn’t tell me your name, dragon,” she said, wiping her eyes.

  “Lived for long, long time,” the dragon replied. “Had many names—Da Lu which means Great Green; Dai Yu, Bringer of Rain; Lao Tang, Old Dignified One. Real name is Long Danzi—Courageous Dragon.”

  “I’ll call you Danzi, then,” said Ping. “You are very courageous.”

  She fingered the bamboo square with her name on it.

  ”What does my name mean?” she asked.

  “Duckweed,” replied the dragon.

  “Oh,” said Ping, but she was only disappointed for a second. It might not be an elegant name, but she had a name, a gift from her long-gone parents and it was hers alone.

  While Ping was lost in her thoughts, the dragon rolled the purple stone out of the cave into the light. He turned it over with one taloned paw, examining it carefully.

  “Stone undamaged,” he said.

  Ping looked at the stone. “I’m not sure why you’re so concerned about that stone,” she said. “You were almost caught by the dragon hunter.”

  “Ping risked life for rat.”

  “Hua’s my best friend,” Ping replied. “I had to go back for him, but I don’t see any sense in risking your life for a rock.”

  The voice in Ping’s mind was silent.

  “You’ve escaped though,” she said. “You’re free at last. Now I have to get back to Huangling.”

  The dragon turned to look at her.

  “Why return?”

  Ping hadn’t considered doing anything else. She had lived on Huangling for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t imagine a life in any other place.

  “Where else would I go?”

  ”Could find new place.”

  Ping shook her head. Just the thought of going out into the world terrified her.

  “I have work to do at Huangling. I won’t have you to look after anymore, but the oxen, the goat, the pigs and the chickens still need feeding, and if the Emperor is going to visit Huangling from time to time, Lao Ma will need help keeping the palace clean,” replied Ping.

  Danzi’s bright eyes narrowed. “Ping must not go back.”

  She smiled, pleased that the dragon was concerned about her safety.

  “Master Lan has been arrested. Once the Emperor has gone back to Chang’an, it’ll be safe for me to go back. I’ll be punished, but then I can go back to work. You can stay here.”

  “Danzi not staying here,” he said. “Going to Ocean.”

  “Ocean?” said Ping. “Ocean is just a place in stories, like the Kunlun Mountains and the Isle of the Blest. Lao Ma told me stories about them. They’re pretend.”

  “All exist.”

  “Why would you want to go anywhere? This is a comfortable cave. You have everything you want here and the dragon hunter won’t be
able to find you. I’ll come and visit you when I can.”

  “Danzi growing old. Waters of Ocean have magical powers, will renew strength.”

  Ping was beginning to wonder if being locked up for so many years had affected the dragon’s mind.

  “Ping must help Danzi,” he said.

  Ping stared at the dragon. “What do you mean?”

  “Travel with Danzi to Ocean.”

  “I can’t.” Ping shivered at the thought of venturing out into the world, full of strange people and strange places. There were plenty of things that she didn’t like about Huangling, but it was familiar.

  The dragon bowed his head. “As you wish.”

  Ping sighed with relief. “Good. Now, how do I get back to the palace?”

  “Danzi will transport Ping.”

  “You mean fly me back to the palace?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t like flying.”

  Ping thought about the dragon’s offer. They were only an hour or so away from Huangling as the dragon flew, but on foot she would have a longer journey. It would take a day or more to return.

  “You can take me back,” she said, “but not until the Emperor has left Huangling.”

  “Has already left.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Dragons have excellent vision,” Danzi replied proudly. “Can see for many li. Saw Emperor’s party leave while on test flight this morning.”

  Ping peered into the distance, but could see nothing but snow and hills. “Are you sure?”

  “Certain.”

  Ping wiggled her toes inside her soggy socks and thin straw shoes. It would be good to get back to Huangling. With a bit of luck she could have Master Lan’s house for her own.

  “Sit on back,” said the dragon. “As willing passenger, Ping will be more comfortable.”

  Ping dreaded the thought of flying again, but now that she knew the Emperor and his guards had left, she wanted to get back to the palace. She wanted to go home.

  “Doesn’t Ping want to see the world?” asked the dragon.

  “No.” She gazed out at the endless white landscape. Mountain after mountain stretched in front of her. The world was far too big and frightening. Ping wanted to get back to the small part of the world that she knew.