by Cutter, Leah
Chapter Eight
Bao Fang
“My father pays a string of coins every week for my studies,” Fat Fang confided in Long Yen. They walked ahead of Xiao Yen on the wide dirt road. Master Wei was taking his students on a field trip to study animals in nature. Predawn clouds stretched sketchy orange fingers across the sky as they walked toward the altar of the river dragon. The river Quang ran gray and quiet.
Xiao Yen didn't care for Fat Fang's tone of voice. He was up to something. His smile was always the same serene Buddha-like smirk, but he wasn't as good as Gan Ou at faking a sincere tone.
Fat Fang continued. “And I know your father pays about the same,” he told Long Yen. “And how much does your father pay Xiao Yen?” he asked over his shoulder.
Xiao Yen didn't know how much Wang Tie-Tie paid, but she was certain it wasn't as much as anyone else. Not because of any generosity from Master Wei, but because Wang Tie-Tie was the best bargainer Xiao Yen had ever seen.
After a moment, Xiao Yen replied to Fat Fang, “My family supports my schooling.” She hoped to imply that many people supporting her were better than a single parent.
Fat Fang spoke reassuringly. “I'm sure they do. Isn't Master Wei a charitable person?” he asked of no one in particular.
Xiao Yen knew she shouldn't take offense, but he was disparaging Wang Tie-Tie, and she couldn't stand that.
“At least I'm here because of my skill, not because some official bribed my way.”
Fat Fang shot her a mean look, his mouth cross, his chin pointing and hard. “I have just as much skill as you do.”
Xiao Yen replied, “Maybe, but did Master Wei ask your family to send you to his school? Like he asked for me?”
Fat Fang stopped and stared at Xiao Yen.
Xiao Yen glared back.
“You were just lucky, a girl doing men's work,” Fat Fang said. He paused. “Maybe you're always lucky.” His serene Buddha smile reappeared. “At least I'm continuing in school because of my skill, not through sheer luck.”
Xiao Yen's cheeks grew warm in the cool morning air. How dare he accuse her of being in school only because of her luck? Yet, a tiny voice deep inside her questioned if he might be right.
Before she could think of a reply, Long Yen stepped between them, laughing.
“Stop bickering like old hens,” he said. He pushed Fat Fang in the direction they'd been walking. “You know Master Wei will be angry if he has to wait for us.”
“You're right,” Fat Fang said. “Though we are with lucky Xiao Yen. If we walk too slowly, Master Wei will have gotten a pebble in his shoe, and will also be going slowly,” he said, linking his arm through Long Yen's and walking forward.
Long Yen glanced back at Xiao Yen. He raised his eyebrows in a helpless look then winked at her.
Xiao Yen gave him a small smile in return. Her smile fell when he turned away.
Was Fat Fang right? Things like that did happen to her. She'd be late for dinner on the one day dinner was delayed, or she'd accidentally tear the creature she was folding at the same time Master Wei discovered the paper was inferior. These incidents were as natural to her as breathing. She'd always been lucky.
Did that mean she had no skill? No, of course not. She was building skill in folding. Her aching shoulders attested to that. Plus, an important part of paper magic was being able to imagine things, and everyone always told her she had a good imagination. She reassured herself she'd passed her first exam, and the others since then, with more than just luck.
A kernel of doubt remained.
* * *
Xiao Yen unbent her left knee, lifting her foot from the earth until it was halfway between the ground and her waist. Then she bent her knee again while at the same time she folded her right hip joint and brought her left arm across her chest. Xiao Yen tried to keep her mind empty as she moved, folding and unfolding her limbs like Master Wei had taught them. This morning the master and his students flowed through the poses, one melting into another. Sometimes Master Wei had them stop and hold a pose while paying attention to their breath and their qi. Xiao Yen felt more comfortable in the folded poses, with her qi surrounding her like a soft blue cocoon. Fat Fang and Long Yen both did better in the unfolded poses, with their qi stretched out, vibrant and red.
Master Wei continually stressed how important the qi was, and the interaction between it and the life force. Xiao Yen paid attention when Master Wei talked, but he used complex philosophical terms she didn't understand. It took her months to fully grasp some concepts. She hoped that someday she'd understand all the nuances Master Wei took for granted.
Only by transferring energies could she animate a paper creation. That was the fundamental nature of all magic—imbuing artifacts with just the right amount of life force. Anyone could fold a pretty crane. But to make it fly . . .
For the first three years of their schooling, Master Wei had only let his students fold creatures. They'd also spent much of their time poring over paintings of animals, insects and landscapes by famous artists, or reading poems about them, trying to discover the essence of each animal or insect. At the start of their fourth year, he'd taught them how to animate small creatures, like ants or centipedes. Xiao Yen excelled at all her studies. It was easier for her than the boys. She didn't have any friends, no one to talk with, nothing to do but study all the time. The younger students wouldn't socialize with her. Xiao Yen couldn't say she was used to being alone because she still always felt lonely. Even with all of Wang Tie-Tie's training, she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to the loneliness.
Xiao Yen brought her hands together, palm to palm, in the final gesture. She bent her head in thanks for the morning, the clear air, the connections she felt with river, the rocks, the birds singing in the trees behind her, the trees themselves.
Master Wei led them to the eight-sided pavilion that held the altar of the river dragon. The pavilion's gray-tiled roof curved gracefully at the corners, supported by round, red-lacquered poles. Green planks ran at waist level between the pillars, perfect for leaning against and watching the river. The altar of the river dragon was a long and skinny table, covered with a red silk embroidered cloth. A silver brazier stood in the center of the altar, holding sand and the remains of hundreds of sticks of incense.
Master Wei knelt and bowed to the altar. His students did the same behind him. After praying for a while, he reached into his sleeves and pulled out five perfectly folded doves made out of dazzling white paper. He arranged them on either side of the altar, then concentrated, head bowed. Little balls of fog covered the five paper birds.
After a moment, the fog melted away and live doves appeared. The birds stood at attention, like soldiers, looking to Master Wei for instructions. As one they bobbed their heads, wheeled and took off. They flew in an arrow formation sunwise around the pavilion three times, then headed for the river. Again they spiraled, the sun reflecting off their brilliant white feathers. One by one they dove into the river, passing into the water as swiftly and silently as knives.
Master Wei produced another stiff piece of paper and gathered up the ashes of the paper birds still standing on the altar. He held it up above his head as he left the pavilion and walked to the river. With a graceful bow he poured the ashes into the river, saying, “Please accept my most humble offering. I hope the birds find their way to your court and delight you with their flying.”
Without turning around, Master Wei addressed his students. “Tell me about the birds.”
Xiao Yen hid her grin. Master Wei was always a teacher, even when he was paying respect to a dragon. Master Wei wanted his students to be acute observers, not just when they studied, but all the time. They never knew when he'd turn to them and say, “Describe what you've just seen.” It was like a game he played with them.
Xiao Yen blessed Wang Tie-Tie again for all the long hours of storytelling she'd made Xiao Yen do in the Garden of Sweet Scents. How could Wang Tie-Tie have known that keen observation was such an i
mportant part of being a paper mage?
Fat Fang started, describing the scales on the birds' feet, a detail Xiao Yen hadn't noticed. Long Yen described how their wings didn't start close to the birds' necks, but farther down, like shoulders, and how the wing feathers overlaid the tail.
Xiao Yen's heart sank down to her ankles. She didn't know what to add. The boys had described the birds completely. She couldn't dredge another detail about them from her memory. She wished she had more time to remember. Before the silence dragged on too long, she described the birds' flight, commenting on how they'd entered the water silently, without a ripple.
Master Wei turned around at her description. Xiao Yen didn't meet his eye, afraid of a reprimand. She hadn't described the physical birds at all.
“Exactly!” he said, startling her, making her look up. “Why is that detail so important?”
Xiao Yen looked at him blankly. She glanced at Long Yen. His face held the same look. Fat Fang turned to look at her. Silently he mouthed the word, “Luck.”
Xiao Yen tried to concentrate on Master Wei's explanation of mundane and magic—how a magical creature couldn't affect the world around it, while a mundane creature couldn't affect magic. As the dragon was a magical creature, it was proper to send him magical doves, rather than earthly ones.
When Master Wei finished his lecture, he turned and walked up the river path. Fat Fang and Long Yen followed him closely. Xiao Yen also stayed close for a time, then she fell back, thinking.
It wasn't fair of Fat Fang to accuse her of being lucky. It was like accusing her of having black hair, or dark eyes. It wasn't something she consciously used. It was a part of who she was.
Yes, Master Wei had met her by chance, and she'd shown him her imagination through luck. But she hadn't stayed in school because of her luck. She also worked hard. It was just so unfair.
What would happen to her if she lost her luck? Xiao Yen swallowed hard. She reached up with her right hand to touch her amulet, to reassure herself it was still there.
Master Wei and the boys walked out of sight, beyond the next curve in the river path. Xiao Yen decided to find out how lucky she was. She wasn't going to follow them. She was going to stop here, and see if Master Wei became furious with her or if something would happen. She sat down on the river side, plucking long brown stems of grass and throwing them like spears into the river.
Nothing happened.
Xiao Yen couldn't see anything moving, not fish nor birds, not even ants. It was worse than sitting in the Garden of Sweet Scents, waiting for Wang Tie-Tie. Then she remembered Wang Tie-Tie saying, “If you grasp opportunity as it passes, you don't need lucky dreams.” Maybe she wasn't as lucky as Fat Fang had said.
What would happen when Master Wei came back and found her sitting looking at nothing? Xiao Yen didn't want her teacher to be angry at her. He was a good man. He rarely yelled at his students and he never beat them. Maybe she shouldn't test her luck. It didn't seem to be holding, anyway.
She stood up, brushed off the seat of her pants, and started walking again. Maybe her luck couldn't come on demand. It was good to know. She was lucky, but it wasn't something she could use for cheating. She was in school because of her skill, not because of her luck, no matter what Fat Fang said.
A trumpeting sound split the air.
Xiao Yen stopped. Only one bird made a call like that. She looked up and caught her breath. Seven cranes came out of the sunrise, heading straight for the marsh in front of her. The cranes rarely came this far inland, preferring to stick to the coast, where they were assured of water. She stayed as still as when holding a pose for Master Wei, hoping the birds wouldn't see her.
The birds landed in the marsh and the waters next to it. From the light brown spots on their backs Xiao Yen could tell they were juveniles, less than a year old. They'd lose their baby feathers over the winter, becoming white like the adults by the spring mating season.
Xiao Yen took a few cautious steps forward. The birds acted boisterous, trumpeting, picking up floating grass and throwing it at each other, hopping in the air, challenging. Two birds on the side approached each other like marching soldiers, lifting their feet high out of the water with each step. Xiao Yen watched, entranced. They were so graceful, head flowing into neck, chest becoming wings, legs supporting the whole. She tried to pay attention to every detail, to how the spots broke up the straight lines of their backs, their vermilion crests, the gold in their eyes.
The two on the side began to dance, wings spread, leaping high into the air, throwing their heads back and trumpeting to the sky. Xiao Yen forced herself to stay still. She wanted to join them, to celebrate the morning and the river and the sunshine.
“Xiao Yen!” she heard behind her. The flock took off without glancing back. Xiao Yen's heart rose to her throat as she followed their flight. The cranes sliced through the air, heads and legs stretched out, like the living arrows of the hero Hou Yi, who'd shot down the ten suns when they'd threatened to burn up the earth, leaving behind just the two, the sun and the moon.
Xiao Yen turned around. Master Wei stood alone, his face also turned toward the sky. Without looking at her he spoke.
“Legends say that for the first hundred years of a crane's life, it eats fish, small frogs, and other creatures of the water. For the next hundred years, it eats less and less. After the first five hundred years of its life, it stops eating earthly food all together, and instead lives entirely on sunshine. A few hundred years after that, it joins the phoenix in its search for a just Emperor. Or”—he paused to look at Xiao Yen—”a man with a true heart.”
Xiao Yen didn't know how to respond. Was Master Wei saying she had a true heart?
Master and student stood silently for a moment, the cranes no longer in sight.
“You were lucky to see them,” Master Wei said. He turned and started walking up the river path again.
Xiao Yen followed. She had been lucky, but only after she'd given up trying to be lucky. So was she in school just because of her luck? She couldn't ask Master Wei. It was too silly a question to contemplate. Yet . . .
Chapter Nine
On the Trail
“Of course you're welcome to spend the night with us. But, surely, you don't want to stay for longer than that. Your aunt is very sick,” Young Lu repeated, as if that were the end of the conversation.
Xiao Yen replied again, “I must finish my duty before I can go home.” She didn't know how long she'd need to find the rat dragon, and the hairpin, and Vakhtang, however, she was sure it'd take more than one day. She also didn't know what to say to convince her aunt, Young Lu, Wang Tie-Tie's youngest sister, to let her stay. Should she say something about Bei Xi? Would her aunt believe her?
In addition, Young Lu had made it clear that though Xiao Yen might be welcome, Udo was another matter. While Young Lu fed Xiao Yen tea and delicate fan-shaped cookies, Udo had to sit outside the hall like a servant. At least her aunt had agreed to have pillows and an umbrella fetched for him. Xiao Yen had told Udo her aunt was afraid of foreigners and had counseled patience. Udo hadn't seemed surprised. He'd obviously run into other people from the Middle Kingdom who disliked foreigners.
Young Lu poured another cup of tea for her guest. Young Lu entertained Xiao Yen in the formal, front building of their compound. It wasn't as fine as the Hall of Politeness from Xiao Yen's home. It was smaller, older, and the windows had no lattice covers. Only a tiny altar sat in the corner, dedicated to Kuan Yin, the goddess of mercy. The low table Xiao Yen and Young Lu sat at was made of a dark heavy wood, un-carved but highly polished. A musty smell filled the room, mingling with the smell of flower incense. The teacups they drank from had splashes of orange, green and yellow under a thick glaze, not fine, but artistically done.
“Tell me about Gan Ou's wedding,” Young Lu said, changing subjects again.
Xiao Yen told her how Gan Ou had looked. She'd worn a headpiece of pearls and diamonds, at least as tall as Xiao Yen's hand, and her hair h
ad spilled from it like a black curtain. Her skin had glowed like a peach in morning sunlight. The red silk of her dress was so delicate it floated in the slightest breeze. Wang Tie-Tie gave Gan Ou the finest gold torc Xiao Yen had ever seen, covered with endless knots, the ends fashioned into dragon heads. The firecrackers set off when Gan Ou left home would have scared even Xing Mou, king of the demons.
Xiao Yen had felt the same at Gan Ou's wedding as she did now. Her family had been happy to see her, but she'd still been an outsider, an embarrassment. Then, she'd been the sister who wasn't married, not even engaged. Now, she was the niece on a strange quest, traveling with a foreigner, not unwelcome, but not wanted either.
After they'd talked about the wedding, Xiao Yen told Young Lu stories of the rest of the family, of her mother and cousins and nieces and nephews. Young Lu seemed starved for news, and served her guest two pots of tea during their conversation.
When Xiao Yen brought up staying again, Young Lu had a servant fetch the latest letter from Wang Tie-Tie and made Xiao Yen read it. The letter said her aunt was very ill, bedridden, waiting for Xiao Yen's return.
Xiao Yen sighed. She couldn't return to her family right away. She had to fulfill her duty to Bei Xi. And to do that, she needed to stay in Khan Hua. She wanted to stay with her aunt. She didn't want to spend a night camped outside of the city. Too many of Vakhtang's soldiers—horsemen wearing the same stylized black horse that Gi Tang had—were around. Udo provoked attention, just because he was a foreigner. Xiao Yen wanted to hide him in Young Lu's house, out of sight of any officials or soldiers. It was better to avoid trouble than to invite it. She should have traveled with Ehran, who would have blended in better, but he was guarding Gi Tang, keeping the horseman tied up and out of the way until Udo and Xiao Yen returned. Ehran hadn't understood why he had to do this, why he and Udo couldn't just continue on their way to the seaport Khuangho. The brothers had fought, and in the end Ehran had agreed their plan.