Paper Mage

by Cutter, Leah

  Mei-Mei bowed and touched her forehead to the ground three times before she got up and joined the rest of her family standing in a line near the door. She trembled again. What if she'd overstepped her bounds? She watched the ground as she walked, not wanting to meet her father's eye. After her two younger brothers finished their parts, the family stood silently for a while, letting the echoes of their reading float up to the Heavenly Court.

  The back of Mei-Mei's neck pricked and chicken skin moved across her shoulders, though the room was warm. She felt compelled to look up. Her father stared at her. Mei-Mei shrank inside at the fierceness of his gaze. Then it softened, and he nodded, moving his head just a fraction. Mei-Mei risked a small smile. Her father didn't smile back with his mouth, but his eyes looked tender. He wasn't angry with her. She'd done the right thing. For the second time that night relief flooded through her.

  Mei-Mei's smile drained away as the weight of her choice settled into her bones. She couldn't leave. She'd just established the pattern of her life. She was her father's daughter. For better and for worse, she was part of her family, here, in the Middle Kingdom.

  * * *

  Old Zhang was fishing in the river when Mei-Mei walked up to him. He looked at her, his eyes sucking at her, pulling her toward him. He didn't say anything, so she tried. “I—ah—I've decided to—ah—to not accept . . .” she stuttered.

  “You've decided to stay in this world, and not travel to the next. Very wise of you,” Old Zhang said. He pulled his bare hook out of the water and wrapped the line around the long bamboo pole.

  Mei-Mei didn't know what to say. She looked down at her hands. Such small hands, so pale. She knew now that strong bones grew underneath that soft skin.

  Old Zhang said, “Imagine the great black sky that is the life of an immortal. There are so few bright points. You, my dear, are one of those stars.”

  Mei-Mei's cheeks burned. How could she live with the memory of their afternoon together?

  Old Zhang answered her unspoken question. “If jade isn't polished, it can't become a thing of use. You'll remember what you need to remember, and use it, like a tailor with a silver needle, to sew your happiness together.”

  Mei-Mei looked up and made herself smile at him. She bit her tongue hard, to hurt to prevent herself from crying.

  Old Zhang returned her sad smile. He laid his pole on the ground next to him and took a brilliant piece of white paper from one of the bags hanging from his belt. He scooped up some water from the river and sprinkled a few drops on the paper. Then he blew on it.

  The paper unfolded itself rapidly, fold upon fold, like a giant lotus blossom. Mei-Mei stepped back, her heart beating fast, not with fear, but with wonder. A deep tone came from the waist-high paper, like echoes from a bronze bell. Two more times the paper unfolded, then a full-sized donkey stood where the paper had been, motionless as a white statue.

  The old man blew on the paper a second time. The white faded to gray. The donkey's mane stirred, and the beast shuddered and shook itself. It looked at Old Zhang then lowered its head to pull up some grass. The old man laughed, grabbed a handful of the donkey's mane, and swung himself up on its back. He turned back to Mei-Mei and said, “I respect your decision.” He paused then continued. “Maybe one of your descendants will make a different choice.”

  He clucked once and the donkey started trotting. Old Zhang didn't say another word or turn around again.

  As Mei-Mei watched him disappear behind the river bend, she vowed that when one of her descendants showed merit, she'd move heaven and earth to let her have that choice.

  Chapter One

  Bao Fang and on the Trail

  Xiao Yen marveled at how the peaceful morning air grew charged with anticipation the moment Wang Tie-Tie woke up.

  “Good morning Aunt,” Xiao Yen said from where she was kneeling. She bowed from her waist, put her hands on the floor and touched her forehead to the ground to show respect for the eldest member of her family. Wang Tie-Tie's dark eyes stared out at Xiao Yen from a collection of wrinkles. Her forehead held deep lines, and her long hair was all white, with only a few strands of black. The front of her neck was hollow, like an old rooster's, but her gaze was steady, and her hands didn't shake as she pushed herself up into a seated position.

  Xiao Yen kept her own eyes averted, observing instead the scarlet, orange and green quilt that covered her aunt. She traced the tiny stitches attaching the seemingly random-colored pieces together. Only when Xiao Yen let herself look beyond the minute could she see that the colors made exotic flowers.

  “You leave today,” Wang Tie-Tie said, breaking the silence. “Good. You will be worthy, perform your duty, and do great deeds while you're traveling. You will make Old Zhang proud of you,” she said, gesturing toward the altar set up in the corner of her room.

  An ink drawing of the immortal hung above a black lacquered table. He stood between his donkey and a river, holding his long bamboo fish drum in his hand. A peach tree grew just behind him. His cheeks and brow were broad and wide, youthful and without flaws. The artist had drawn the immortal's eyes extra large and bulging, with many wrinkles around them. Old Zhang seemed to be staring at Xiao Yen, judging her worth.

  “And when I come back?” Xiao Yen asked without thinking. She put her hand in front of her mouth. She'd never questioned her aunt before. Wang Tie-Tie didn't seem to notice her impoliteness.

  “When you come back I shall arrange other employment for you.”

  Employment. Not marriage, though she'd just turned seventeen, and should be married. Gan Ou, her older sister, had been engaged by the time she was fifteen. Xiao Yen wondered again if the reason her aunt never talked about Xiao Yen getting married was because her own husband had been so unpleasant before he'd been killed in the same river accident that had taken Xiao Yen's father and elder brothers. Wang Tie-Tie's husband was honored. Her aunt performed the proper rituals to appease his ghost every month. On the other hand, no one talked about him, or told stories about the funny or clever or even brave things he'd done. Xiao Yen's mother lamented about how improper the household was now that Wang Tie-Tie was the head of the family, how in the old days the servants did all the shopping and the women were strictly confined to the women's quarters. Yet Xiao Yen suspected her mother secretly enjoyed being able to go to the market and to the White Temple without having to beg permission.

  “Now go. It is time for my morning tea,” Wang Tie-Tie said.

  Xiao Yen swallowed hard, sadness dimming the morning sunlight. Though she knew better than to expect warm words at their parting, she'd still hoped. Xiao Yen didn't want to go, didn't know when she'd be returning, and if she ran into bandits, or worse . . . She unbent her knees slowly, as if they held Wang Tie-Tie's age, bowed again to her aunt, and started for the door.

  “Xiao Yen,” Wang Tie-Tie called out.

  Did her tone hold some softness? Xiao Yen stopped, but didn't turn around.

  “I have every faith in you. You will do well, and Old Zhang will come to reward you. He promised me.”

  Xiao Yen turned around. Had the immortal really visited her aunt when she was Xiao Yen's age? She'd heard the story almost every day since she'd been a little girl. And about his promise.

  It had always been easy for Xiao Yen to agree to her aunt's plan: learn paper magic, perform some great deed, and be rewarded with an immortal peach from Zhang Gua Lao. Now the plan had to be put into action. She was about to start her first appointment as a paper mage, protecting horses. How could she prove herself worthy of such important, rare charges, let alone an immortal's attention? Especially with foreigners, going to a foreign place? The impossibility of her task threatened to crush her.

  “And when he does reward you . . .” Wang Tie-Tie started.

  “I'll bring the immortal peach to you,” Xiao Yen finished the litany. Every time Xiao Yen saw Wang Tie-Tie they repeated this phrase. It was their pact, their bond. It was how Xiao Yen would repay Wang Tie-Tie for letting her
study with Master Wei. It was her duty. No matter what else happened, Xiao Yen would do her duty.

  Wang Tie-Tie smiled, her eyes kind. “You are my hope. My dream.” The soft voice hardened. “I don't understand why you have such a sad face. You're lucky. You've always been lucky.”

  Xiao Yen forced her hands to stay at her sides, to not reach up to grasp the empty place around her neck. The amulet that held her luck was gone. A ragged hole ripped through the morning and darkness poured through, threatening to suffocate Xiao Yen. She kept her face calm, placid, so Wang Tie-Tie wouldn't know anything was wrong.

  “You will do well. I'm sure of it.” Her aunt paused, then said, “I will see you again when you return.”

  Xiao Yen bowed at the dismissal, turned, and walked out the door.

  She couldn't tell her aunt. She couldn't tell anyone.

  Bright spring sunlight peeped over the front wall of the family compound. Pale sky filled the area above the walls—the sky well. Xiao Yen only saw darkness. She held herself rigid, not blinking until she was sure she could move again without screaming her loss aloud. She'd lost her luck. Jing Long, the dragon living at the bottom of the city well, had caused her amulet, the source of her luck, to fall into the well at the center of the city. Now she had to leave her family, go on an impossible journey with foreigners, and protect their horses, each one worth more than her life.

  She took a deep breath, trying capture the stillness of the morning air. She failed. She couldn't stop trembling inside. She closed her eyes and tried to find her center, her quiet place, but all she saw were the gray backs of her eyelids.

  A moment later she felt a tug on her sleeve, and opened her eyes. Her old nurse, Ama, stood beside her. She held out a dark blue bundle. Xiao Yen recognized her mother's favorite jacket. Without a word Ama folded it again and put it into Xiao Yen's pack. Fu Be Be hadn't understood why Xiao Yen had wanted to take her old jacket. It was worn, the cuffs were covered with plaques to hide their raveling, and the embroidered threads were breaking. But Xiao Yen had wanted something of her mother's with her, to remind her of her family, to comfort her while she traveled. It was Xiao Yen's favorite jacket too.

  Ama bowed deeply to Xiao Yen, almost bending in half. Then she scuttled away, heading toward the servants' quarters at the far end of the compound. They'd already said their good-byes. Xiao Yen knew Ama didn't want to be seen crying again.

  Fu Be Be came up before Xiao Yen could take another deep breath. Her skin glowed like a white peony in the sunlight. She'd added only the slightest pink to her cheeks and lips. Her eyebrows arched across her forehead like gull wings, showing her great intelligence. She wore her rich black hair piled loosely on top of her head, held in place with three black-and-red lacquered hairpins. Glittering sunlight reflected off her best silver jacket, and fired the golden pine boughs embroidered on it.

  Xiao Yen's throat tightened. Although her mother didn't approve of her employment, Fu Be Be was going to see her daughter off with all due ceremony.

  Fu Be Be sniffed with disapproval when Xiao Yen picked up her own bag. To forestall another argument about hiring porters, Xiao Yen turned and walked toward the gate that separated the family courtyard from the front, formal courtyard. Though her mother stood a good head shorter than Xiao Yen, and was thinner than a river willow, Xiao Yen would rather face Hu Xien, the demon-slayer strong enough to jump and touch the moon, than have another fight with her mother.

  Old Gardener had sprinkled water mixed with oil over the stones that morning, so the formal courtyard, also known as the Yard of Greeting, sparkled in the sunlight. The Hall of Politeness, the only building in the Yard of Greeting, sat like a shadow in the sunlight. Small brass bells hung under the eaves and rang when the wind touched them. Xiao Yen hurried past with only the slightest nod to show her respect. Fu Be Be hadn't paused, and already stood waiting at the front gate, beyond the bright red spirit wall.

  Evil spirits could only travel in straight lines, so families built spirit walls behind their front gates, preventing direct access into the courtyards beyond. A circling gold-and- white dragon was painted on the side of the wall facing the gate of Xiao Yen's family compound. Xiao Yen wanted to stroke the dragon's long, drooping whiskers, to say good-bye, as she had when she'd been younger. But she couldn't. Not in front of her mother.

  Old Gardener opened the gate silently, eyes downcast. As Xiao Yen passed through, he reached out and patted the dragon's snout for her. Xiao Yen bit her lip, refusing to cry. Instead, she hurried after her mother.

  “Hú-ah,” cried an old woman sitting on the street corner next to a covered iron pot. “Porridge for sale!” High-pitched tings rang from the coppersmith shop. Heated bargaining spilled out onto the street from the tailor's next door. Steam clouds billowed across the sidewalk. They smelled like almonds and obscured the bun stand.

  Xiao Yen slowed as she passed the line of customers. She would have liked to buy a sweet bun for breakfast, but her mother wouldn't stop. Fu Be Be walked without hesitation, like the ghost Wu Quang Yin on her way to collect more souls. Dutifully Xiao Yen hurried on.

  The rain from the night before had left large puddles in the center of the road, squeezing traffic into two tight lines. Xiao Yen paused at the first line to let a man with a wheelbarrow full of baskets pass in front of her. She found a narrow path between two puddles in the center, then paused again to wait for an ox pulling a cart laden with spring grain. Fu Be Be was already on the other side of the street. Xiao Yen hurried to catch up.

  Just as Xiao Yen reached her mother, she stepped in a small puddle. Her shoe stuck in the mud at the bottom of the hole and Xiao Yen fell onto her knees and hands. Her head snapped forward and she bit her tongue. “Ow!” she cried.

  Fu Be Be rushed to her daughter's side, gripped Xiao Yen's elbow, and pulled her up.

  Xiao Yen looked down in dismay. Mud covered her new gray travel pants. The palms of her hands burned and the mud on her knees grew chill in the cool morning air. Xiao Yen grasped her mother's arm to steady herself. The warm silk slid under her hand. Xiao Yen let go, but it was too late. An ugly stain, like a black arrow, circled the silver sleeve.

  Xiao Yen stared, horrified. She'd just ruined her new travel clothes and her mother's best jacket. A roaring like wet thunder filled Xiao Yen's ears. How could she have done this? She'd rarely tripped before, and had never fallen like this. Not when she'd had her luck. She rubbed the faint scar on the back of her left hand, remembering when she once thought of herself as the luckiest girl in the world.

  Fu Be Be leaned over and brushed at the mud on Xiao Yen's pants, but only dirtied her own hands. She straightened up and looked at Xiao Yen, her dark eyes cutting through Xiao Yen's cloud of silence.

  “This is a bad omen. Wang Tie-Tie should never have signed that contract. It's shameful. Sending you away from your family, to work with those dirty foreigners. You must keep yourself apart and pure.” Fu Be Be pulled Xiao Yen's arm down, jerking her forward, and hurrying along again.

  Xiao Yen stopped. “Mother, I'm sure it'll be fine. It'll be good experience for me.” Xiao Yen regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

  Fu Be Be turned and came back to where Xiao Yen was standing. Xiao Yen flinched under her mother's angry gaze.

  “Good experience? The only experience you should be getting is listening to matchmakers and swaddling babies. Who's going to make an offer for you after you spend three months away from your home, traveling with foreigners?”

  “Shhh, Mother,” Xiao Yen said, conscious of the stares from the people passing them.

  Fu Be Be wouldn't be shushed. “Wang Tie-Tie, your own aunt, has robbed you. I don't care how much money we're getting from this contract. A girl without family is poor.”

  A water carrier, his empty buckets dangling on a pole carried over his broad shoulders, leaned against the wall next to the sidewalk to watch. Xiao Yen gestured at him and told her mother, “Remember what they say: wear your broken arm inside your
sleeve.”

  Fu Be Be glared at the young man, then dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Holding her nose high, she turned and walked down the sidewalk again, as proud as royalty. Xiao Yen suppressed a giggle and followed.

  A small crowd had gathered in the courtyard of the merchant inn. The two foreign brothers stood next to their horses, packed and ready to go. A group of people gathered in a circle around them, staring, pointing, and whispering to each other. The brothers towered over everyone by a head at least. Xiao Yen gasped as she and Fu Be Be approached. She'd never been this close to a foreigner before. They really were as ugly as her cousins said. Wang Tie-Tie's partner, Fu Ling, detached himself from the crowd to greet them.

  Fu Ling bowed low, hands pressed together across his chest. He wore makeup around his eyes to make them seem small and squinting, as if he spent his nights studying. His broad red nose told the truth—the only thing he studied was a wine pot. He wore a black cap with a high-standing brim and long ear flaps, like an official's cap, but without the sign of Heaven embroidered on it. His russet silk robe had a pattern of golden blossoms embroidered across his skinny chest and long sleeves.

  “Greetings Lady Fu,” he said in a voice like silk caressing silk. “I welcome you and your”—he paused, glancing at Xiao Yen—”daughter.”

  Everyone always said how much Xiao Yen looked like her mother, the same long fine fingers, well-formed nose and oval face. Xiao Yen's training had left her bulkier though. Her sister had teased her once, that with Xiao Yen's shoulders, if she cut her hair, she could pass for a man. The remark still burned.

  Fu Ling paused again. Fu Be Be bowed to him, a very short, curt bow, as one would give to an inferior. Xiao Yen did the same. The crowd in the courtyard now stared at her. She wished she could disappear. It was bad enough that her family knew of her position. Now all of Bao Fang would know. Gossip ran faster through the city than the goddess Chang-e could fly from the Tien Mountains in the west to the sea in the east.