by Linda Talbot
knee deep in a field of flowers.
The elephant waves his knotted trunk and trumpets, although it is hard to see where the flowers in the field finish and those painted on the elephant begin. The twins run to him and Turvy says, ”We’re very tired. You are very large. Would you carry us to the Cave of the Tokhashi?”
The elephant groans. “I’ll take you if you insist, but you’ll have to direct me. They say an elephant never forgets. But I do. That’s why I’ve tied a knot in my trunk. I think I am an Indian elephant. But I can’t be sure.”
“Follow me!” cries the phoenix, while the twins with Liu Sheng and Yung t’ai scramble onto the elephant’s back.
“What is your name?” asks Topsy.
“I’ve forgotten,” says the elephant, trumpeting sadly.
“I’ll call you Rama. Why are you painted?”
Rama the forgetful elephant
“Oh, so many questions,” sighs Rama. “I think it was for some festival. I really don’t remember. I’m not one of those miraculous elephants of the gods with six tusks that strides seven feet above the ground.” He plods through the flowers, crushing the huge blooms with his heavy feet.
As darkness falls, Feng Huang flutters in agitation. “I’ve forgotten the way!” she exclaims, releasing a coloured cloud of feathers.
The twins, who had fallen asleep, wake with a start, while Liu Sheng holds on tightly to Yung t’ai, who starts to cry again.
“I can smell India,” trumpets Rama, raising high his knotted trunk.
“But the Tokhashi lives in Japan. We have travelled too far west,” sighs the phoenix. Rama, however, plods faster through the flowers, sensing a muddy river where he may wallow and wash off the paint.
Feng Huang is about to object, when the field of flowers, that had been glinting in the dark, fades, to be replaced by the sound of rushing water. Rama trumpets in alarm as, with angry white flecks, it flows at them and the tumbling rocks slowly take the shape of a huge hand. A low voice rumbles from every direction.
“Hear Varuna, the River God. You are lost. Feng Huang might protect you in China, but not here. You won’t survive a second time. Yung t’ai. Yung t’ai.”
Liu Sheng clutches the bride and urges Rama to walk faster. His big feet slither in the palm of the great hand. Topsy and Turvy are terrified and the phoenix flies helplessly to and fro.
Very slowly, Varuna’s fist begins to close on them, the water frothing down his fingers. Then, with a flash of bright feathers, Feng Huang swoops and plucking Yung t’ai in her beak, flies high above the huge hand, to be hidden in low cloud.
Varuna (River God) and Agni (Fire God)
To everyone’s horror, above the rushing water, another enormous hand appears; flames leaping from its fingers. A hot voice exclaims, “Stop Varuna! In the name of Agni the Fire God. I insist you let these travellers pass.” The hand of Varuna pauses and as Rama sways sideways, the twins clutch a massive forefinger and Topsy drops three of her pearls of wisdom.
Next to arrive is Vayu, the God of Wind, who is invisible, but fans Agni’s flames, until they threaten to singe Rama’s ears, flapping rapidly with fear. The water leaps higher, washing in cold waves over the twins and Liu Sheng. The gods start fighting; Vayu howls, Agni leaps and Varuna roars.
“Viana, help us!” cries Topsy, as she and Turvy are swept off Rama’s back. The next moment they are clinging once more to Viana’s hair, which is very wet, but the clash and havoc of the gods has ceased.
“Shall we ever find the Tokhashi?” asks Turvy, dripping and shivering, “And where are Yung t’ai and Feng Huang?”
“They are safe,” answers Viana.
“I was so close to India. Now I suppose I shall have to take you to Japan,” grumbles Rama, bouncing below them.
Viana laughs, “I shall take you there. I’m tired of you pulling my hair and trampling my mountains and fields. What is more, quarrelling floods, fire and wind are very wearing.”
In a moment the travellers are standing among rocks once more. But these are built in dark blocks around a doorway. The entrance to the Tokhashi’s cave?
Topsy and Turvy peer inside, but can see nothing.
“I’m not going in. I’d get stuck,” says Rama, planting his feet firmly on the stony ground.
“It’s as black as my tomb,” shudders Liu Sheng.
With a great whirr, Feng Huang, her tail feathers streaming, flies from the clouds, Yung t’ai swinging from her beak. They land on the rock above the cave’s mouth. A distant roar, like thunder trapped underground, echoes from inside the cave.
“The Tokhashi!” cries Turvy, slithering off Rama, who trumpets loudly in reply. Topsy and Liu Sheng slide off too and creep to the cave’s entrance. Silence.
The Tokhashi
“We must go in,” says Feng Huang. “Do you have the pearls of wisdom, Topsy, should we need them?”
“Most of them, although I dropped some in the water,” says Topsy.
“Wait for us here,” Turvy tells Rama. They walk fearfully into the darkness. The walls drip with moisture, the daylight behind them fades to a glimmer, then disappears.
Another roar, louder than the first, shakes the ground under their feet. Liu Sheng holds Yung t’ai’s hand. Topsy holds Turvy’s. Feng Huang flutters ahead, leaving a trail of shining feathers they can follow.
The passage widens and at the end, in a room full of old bones, knotted roots and rusty cans, as Viana had said, they see the sagging features of the Tokhashi. His eyes are red and blink slowly in the dark. His cheeks hang in thick folds of green and blue, his nose is broad and two curved fangs thrust from his mouth. Three sharp horns grow from his head. His body is indistinct in the darkness, but seems to lie in a heap of leathery folds on the floor.
For a moment, the Tokhashi does not notice them. But as they draw near, he dimly perceives their shapes. He utters a deafening roar and a shower of small rocks tumble onto the floor, narrowly missing the twins.
Feng Huang flutters close to the Tokhashi and Turvy urges Yung t’ai forward. She trembles, but tiptoes behind Feng Huang, while Liu Sheng, fearing to face death again, hangs back.
The phoenix and the bride gaze into the Tokhashi’s gaping mouth, full of foul teeth. He grinds them, the sound echoing coarsely and a dark mass that must be his body, shifts in the shadows.
Turvy steps forward and announces, “Look, Tokhashi. We have brought you two rare and beautiful beings rescued from great danger.”
The red eyes narrow, the face thrusts forward, the mouth snaps shut. Then a horrible hand rises from the darkness and very gently, touches the phoenix. She flies onto the Tokhashi and smiles. Another horny hand appears and almost knocks over Yung t’ai, who is too terrified to stir.
For a long time, the Tokhashi gazes in silence, until Topsy steps forward and spills her pearls of wisdom at his feet, then hastily retreats. Gradually, the red eyes dim, the broad nose flattens, the cheeks grow smooth, the fangs and the horns dissolve. The Tokhashi’s leathery skin begins to glow, brighter each minute, until he has become a harmless orb of shimmering light.
Sinking, exhausted, into Viana’s soft hair, everyone looks down on a distant world; fields, mountains and seas, laid below like patchwork.
“Well done. You have tamed the Tokhashi,” says Viana. “Now Zazhak, helpless without him, will wither away. But why should we wait? I’ll destroy him the way he came - in an earthquake.”
There is a rumble far below and the patchwork heaves and plunges; rocks change shape, seas flow through fields, trees tumble like matchsticks.
“Zazhak is dead and the Tokhashi is tamed!” cries Topsy. A white horse’s head appears over the rim of the world.
“Ch’Eng!” exclaims Liu Sheng, “Freed from the web of time.” He lifts Yung t’ai onto the great horse, gleaming in the clear new light, his feet flashing like quicksilver.
“We must return to China,” says Liu Sheng and Feng Huang says, “I shall go too. Farewell.”
Rama trumpets and tries
to make out where India is on the muddled cloth of countries below. “I expect I’ll find it eventually,” he sighs and starts to amble down the hills of Viana’s hair, now lifting gently in the wind.
“Where shall we go?” asks Turvy.
Viana replies, “You have been very brave. I don’t want to dissolve you. Anyway, I don’t work mischievous miracles with madness and hot air like Zazhak. I’ll pop you back in the pot for the time being.”
Topsy and Turvy wake and rub their eyes. The rain rattles at the window of their blue bedroom.
“I had an extraordinary dream,” says Turvy.
“So did I,” says Topsy.
She gets up and looks through the wet window. In the greyness, on the hill opposite, she sees a flash of colours like the streaming tail feathers of a bird.
“Feng Huang!” she cries.
But it is only someone flying a kite.
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Thank you for reading this book - which I hope you have enjoyed.
If you would like to read my other work, please return to your favourite ebook retailer. For a complete list of my work with a short summary of each, click this link to my blog https://lindajtalbot.wordpress.com. There are also sample extracts from many of these works. You are welcome to add a comment.
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Author's Note
Linda Talbot writes fantasy for adults and children. She now