Paper Mage

by Cutter, Leah

  “Your master sounds very wise,” Tuo Nu said. “Was he very old?”

  “He was,” Xiao Yen said proudly. “He had much experience as a mage.”

  “Oh,” said Tuo Nu, disapproving.

  Xiao Yen bit her lip and didn't comment. She pressed her calves against her horse's ribs, urging it forward. She didn't want to hear Tuo Nu disparage Master Wei. Plus, why wouldn't he venerate someone who was as old as her master? Though Tuo Nu looked like someone from the Middle Kingdom, he was as foreign to her as Udo.

  Tuo Nu kept talking, as if to himself. “I mean, who wants to practice, and practice, and practice every day? It's so much work. And for what? Just to be old before your time. Better to use the herbs,” he ended.

  Xiao Yen rode up in front of the wagon. Tuo Nu was right. Magic was a lot of work. Generally she loved practicing, but then there were times, like now, when nothing seemed to go right, when practice just meant work with no reward.

  What if she never found her peace again? Her luck was gone. She didn't want to practice, not like this, every day, for the rest of her life. Maybe she should quit, get married and raise sons. That would please her mother, but disappoint Wang Tie-Tie. Who was ill, dying. Xiao Yen still needed to do something worthy of an immortal peach. Soon. Before Wang Tie-Tie passed beyond the Yellow River.

  Maybe she already had. She'd faced down Vakhtang. He'd been evil, stealing people's souls so his own life could continue, preventing them from a chance of rebirth. She remembered her dream from the night before, his searching eyes. She'd killed him.

  Xiao Yen's spirits sank far below her into the earth.

  There would be no reward for killing.

  Xiao Yen got out her practice string and started tying knots. It didn't take any work to do her knot magic. She'd already found out how to do it without reaching for her quiet. And it took her mind off the cold future ahead.

  * * *

  Vakhtang came to Xiao Yen in her dreams again, still dressed the same as she'd seen him last, the white knots of the silver jacket expanded as if protecting him. His face held a light blue color this time, a pale reflection of the magic that had kept him alive.

  Xiao Yen pushed her way across the darkness to where Vakhtang stood. It took all her courage to speak. “Why are you here?” she asked.

  Vakhtang stayed frozen for a moment more. Then his face rippled, like the surface of a pond. “As a reminder,” was all he said.

  A reminder? Of what?

  Suddenly she felt paper in her hands. As she started to grasp it, something on the other side of the paper, that she couldn't see, tried to pull it away. Xiao Yen played tug-of-war with an unseen assailant for what seemed like a long time. The paper was resilient, but she couldn't pull too hard on it, or it would tear. Vakhtang watched her the whole time, his face tinged with regret.

  Xiao Yen noticed that as she pulled, Vakhtang grew less real, more like a painting. She sent a quick prayer to Zhang Gua Lao then pulled the paper one last time. Vakhtang shrank as she pulled, then drained away. Xiao Yen looked down at the piece of paper she had won. It was a portrait of Vakhtang, done with a few strokes in black ink, just enough to capture the essence of the man, the cruelty of his deeds showing in his tight lips, the fear that drove him haunting his eyes.

  Xiao Yen quickly folded the portrait into a box, with the picture on the inside, locking Vakhtang away forever.

  As soon as she put the box down by her feet, she felt another piece of paper in her hands. For the rest of her dream, that was all Xiao Yen did. Take portraits of Vakhtang and fold them away. Her hands and arms were a blur. Sometimes she grew tired. Then she'd take a deep breath, and find the strength to continue.

  Xiao Yen awoke smelling dawn in the night air. She didn't know if Vakhtang would come back and haunt her again. It didn't matter. He'd served his purpose, reminding her of one of the basic truths of her life.

  If she continued to fold, to do paper magic, sooner or later, she'd have to kill again.

  Xiao Yen couldn't bear the weight of another death on her soul.

  She realized her face felt cold. When she reached up to touch it, she found her cheeks were wet, her eyes shedding tears. She rolled over onto her side and faced the dull center of her life. When the tears stopped, she slept.

  * * *

  Xiao Yen crawled from her tent the next morning, unrested. She didn't meet anyone's eye, but walked next to the fire and announced loudly, “I'm not practicing magic anymore.”

  Ehran nodded and said, “Good.”

  Udo cuffed his brother then came up to Xiao Yen. “I don't understand,” he said. “Why would you give up your magic? Why would you give up such a large part of yourself?”

  Xiao Yen blinked back her tears. She couldn't believe the irony. Someone finally understood how important her magic was—after she'd renounced it.

  Tuo Nu came up as well, and asked Xiao Yen in a low voice, in her language, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Xiao Yen considered for a moment. Maybe she could explain to him why. Though Udo understood some things, his essential nature was too violent, too aggressive, to understand this. “The price is too high,” she said. Killing went against all her Buddhist teachings, against her mother's and sister's wishes. It pressed too hard against her soul.

  “Ah, the, ah, Wind of God lowers the price,” Tuo Nu said.

  Xiao Yen thought for a moment, then replied, “Thank you, no.” Forgetting what she had done wouldn't make it better. She didn't want the Wind of God to blow away her pain. What would prevent her from becoming like Vakhtang if she couldn't feel remorse?

  She helped herself to the still-warm porridge. She only gave herself one spoonful, and had problems finishing that. She packed up her tent and gear without saying a word to anyone. Udo saddled her horse for her and strapped her things to it.

  As they left camp, Udo rode next to Xiao Yen. “I don't understand,” he said.

  “It's wrong to kill,” Xiao Yen responded. She didn't know how else to explain it, didn't know how to tell him of her Buddhist teachings, of her mother, her culture, her soul.

  “Vakhtang was evil,” Udo said simply, as if that should absolve her.

  Xiao Yen merely looked at him. After a while, Udo pulled forward, up to Tuo Nu. They talked urgently, but Xiao Yen couldn't make out their words.

  Xiao Yen wished she could pull forward, make her horse run, all the way to the coast then back home. Though Bei Xi had promised the attack against Bao Fang wouldn't come until the next year, Xiao Yen felt anxious. What if Bei Xi didn't make a distinction between an attack and a raid? What if bandits set up closer to Bao Fang, threatening the merchants and the markets? What would happen to her family?

  Xiao Yen tried to distract herself by naming the trees as they passed. Elm, oak, blue pine, rock pine, scrub pine, bilberry bush, pine. . .Bored, she pulled her practice string from her sleeve and began tying knots, as she always did. First she grew the knot big in her mind, then small. The familiar movements brought her a little calm.

  “What's that?” Tuo Nu asked.

  Xiao Yen stared at her hands with a shock. She was practicing magic again. She threw her string to the ground in horror.

  “Nothing,” she said, nudging her horse around him. How could she have forgotten her vow so quickly? She flexed her fingers. At least her arms never trembled. She bit back her laugh, afraid she'd never stop if she started. The sun still warmed her back, the pines still smelled sweet. But she'd killed Vakhtang. And one day, she'd have to kill again. Now she knew why no one wanted to hire her. It was awful enough for a man to kill, but for a woman . . .

  Maybe she should let Tuo Nu help her, try the Wind of God, lower the payment made by her soul.

  Xiao Yen tried to eat the stew they cooked for lunch, but only managed a few bites. She still wouldn't talk with anyone. After lunch, she sat on the ground next to her horse, moving her hands restlessly. She wanted to go into the woods, just for a short while, go through her poses, maybe f
ind her center. That smacked of practicing magic though, which she'd given up. She sighed, frustrated.

  Tuo Nu approached her, carrying a steaming cup of tea. Udo stood behind him. Ehran stood farther back, his arms folded over his chest, looking on in disgust.

  “Here,” Tuo Nu said, handing her the cup. “Drink this. It will help.”

  Xiao Yen looked up at him, then at Udo. He nodded then spoke slowly, using simple words, so Xiao Yen would understand him. “Tuo Nu said your essence hurts from killing. But without magic, I think your essence hurts more.”

  Xiao Yen took the cup, letting it warm her hands for a moment. The tea smelled like dirt and bitter herbs. She hadn't known what the Wind of God was supposed to smell like, but she knew that anything this powerful wouldn't smell sweet.

  She drank the whole cup in one gulp. “Now what?” she asked.

  Tuo Nu took the cup and helped her lie down on the ground. “We wait. It should only take a short while,” he said.

  Xiao Yen closed her eyes and tried to find her center.

  There it was. The cool running river, flashing like quicksilver. If she bathed in the waters, maybe she would feel clean. She let her core expand. A dead tree, one she'd never seen before, had fallen on the far side of the river. It was being reabsorbed by the forest. Young plants grew out of it.

  Xiao Yen's heart beat hard in her chest. Death was just another part of life, the endless cycle. She could make offerings for Vakhtang, remember him in her prayers, and hope for the best for him in his next life. It wouldn't be enough, but it could be a start. Maybe her guilt would abate, her soul could heal.

  She walked toward the river, knelt, and put her hands in the cool water. Blood streamed from her fingers. She'd never be able to wash her hands clean. This death would follow her through this life and all her others. It might prevent her from being able to leave the cycle of death and rebirth.

  She pulled her hands out of the river, carrying dripping water to her face. She stopped before she drank any of it. Something was wrong. The river in front of her bubbled, frothed, growing more chaotic, then exploded, like someone had set off a firecracker under the surface. Water flew everywhere, like a frightened flock of cranes. What had happened?

  Xiao Yen heard wind. It blew through her, blew away her calm. She opened her eyes, shocked. The wind still roared in her ears.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “It's the Wind of God,” Tuo Nu replied.

  “It doesn't make you forget?” Xiao Yen asked. Udo looked at her strangely. She realized she'd been shouting over the sound of the wind. No one heard it but her.

  “No,” Tuo Nu replied. “The wind blows strength to you, so you don't have to use your own. It blows you to your center.”

  Xiao Yen shook her head. “How can you think with all that noise?” she asked.

  “The sound of the wind is a great comfort to me. Isn't it to you?”

  Xiao Yen replied, “No.” She struggled to hear the silence of her river. The wind ripped it away from her. “How long will this last?” she asked, struggling to sit up.

  “Forever,” Tuo Nu said.

  Xiao Yen blinked. Forever. Her luck was gone. Her calm, her center, gone. Her magic. Gone. Forever.

  Chapter Twenty

  Bao Fang

  Xiao Yen waited, without fidgeting, to be presented to Master Djong, the official visiting from Huang Hwa, a large town east of Bao Fang. His town was investigating different defenses. They'd contacted Master Wei about hiring one of his students. The trouble up north continued to grow. Though the treaty held, there were constant raids. Rumors of a great warlord, and the horsemen uniting under him, circulated through the marketplace. Many merchants no longer took their wares to Tan Yuan, the next large city north of Bao Fang. Xiao Yen was certain this wouldn't be the last time Master Wei had his students “perform” for potential clients.

  Xiao Yen couldn't decide what to make of the official. His cheeks were as fat and round as the Buddha's, but he didn't look serene or jolly when he smiled. He wore a brilliant pink silk robe with golden chrysanthemums embroidered so finely around the cuffs and hem that the flowers seemed painted on. Yet Master Djong's beard held tiny white flakes, and maybe a drop of soup from lunch.

  A breeze shook the bright orange canopy. Xiao Yen elongated her neck to catch more of the cool wind, wishing she could fan herself. The spring sunshine was unusually hot this afternoon. However, she and the other students had to sit absolutely still on the hard dirt of the outer courtyard and wait to be presented. After all her years of training with Master Wei, it wasn't hard to sit motionless, with a quiet heart, waiting as a river waits for the rain. As the youngest of the three senior students, she would be presented last. Earlier that day all ten students from the school had been presented in an assembly. Now, only the most senior students were allowed to approach the dais where Master Wei and Master Djong sat.

  Fat Fang, being the eldest student and Governor Fang's son, went first. His body resembled the official's: round belly, small eyes under a protruding brow, fat Buddhalike lips. The differences between them were more subtle. Strong muscles molded Fat Fang's shoulders, his back was as straight as a sword while he knelt, and he projected calm like a boulder sitting next to a river. He still teased Xiao Yen, but it seemed more out of habit now than out of spite. He never listened to her folding ideas. When his sister, Bing Yu, came to visit, he bragged about how he was the best student in their class.

  Long Yen sat next to Xiao Yen. He waited like a willow tree waits for the wind. His nose had grown sharper as he'd matured, protruding like a sheer cliff in the middle of his face. His eyes had grown sharper too. He always saw when Fat Fang took more dessert, or when Xiao Yen had spent the morning missing her family. He still had creamy skin and a sweet, wide smile. He was also the laziest of the three students. He folded well when he concentrated, but he preferred sleeping to studying.

  Master Djong pulled a small bag from his sleeve and presented it to Fat Fang at the end of their interview. This was a not-so-subtle bribe, so that the students might consider employment in Huang Hwa if a position was offered to them. Fat Fang thanked the official many times. He fingered the bag as he walked back to his place to sit down, trying to count the number of coins in it.

  While Long Yen was being presented, Xiao Yen thought about the upcoming mock battle for the pleasure of the official. She didn't know what the boys planned to fold. Long Yen had hinted at a large creature, since they were outside. Fat Fang had warned her that a mere crane wouldn't defeat him this time. She smiled, thinking of the stag she'd been practicing, with its delicate hooves and sharp antlers. In her mind, she practiced the folds again: the gentle creases to set the shape into the paper, the false fold to give the hind legs their power, the little tug to bring the face down and expose the antlers.

  After Long Yen sat down, also carrying a small bag, Xiao Yen rose and walked forward. She stopped a respectful distance away, her head bowed. The official turned to speak with Master Wei, so she waited, not listening to their conversation, as that would be impolite. A sweet fragrance came from Master Djong, sweeter than incense, a foreign scented oil. Finally there was a pause in the conversation. Master Wei inclined his head, indicating that Xiao Yen should come closer.

  Xiao Yen walked up, knelt and bowed, touching her forehead to the earth three times. She stayed kneeling and sat back on her heels.

  “This is Fu Xi Wén,” Master Wei said, introducing Xiao Yen with her formal name.

  Xiao Yen bowed again.

  The official turned to Master Wei and said, “A student? Not a servant? I thought you only had two students.”

  Master Wei didn't respond. Xiao Yen hoped that Master Djong felt as uncomfortable in the silence as Gan Ou did.

  “We had heard rumors about the girl,” Master Djong finally continued. “Of course, you are well known for your charity and gracious heart.”

  Xiao Yen felt her cheeks catch fire. She kept her face impassive, no
t letting her eyes burn with anger. She was not here on charity. She had just as much skill as the boys.

  “I shall have to send the girl something from the road,” Master Djong said, his voice coated with oil.

  The words hit Xiao Yen's chest like a series of swift kicks. How dare he? Xiao Yen had never heard such condescension in someone's tone. He obviously had money for her, and didn't plan on giving it to her because she was a girl. Xiao Yen's rage held her chest in a vise so strong she couldn't take a deep breath even if she tried. She looked at Master Wei but his face told her nothing.

  The official cleared his throat. He had nothing to say to her, though he'd talked with each of the boys for a while.

  Xiao Yen hid her face with another set of deep bows then returned to her seat.

  Neither Fat Fang or Long Yen looked at her, but she knew they'd seen her empty hands. Master Wei and Master Djong continued conversing. Xiao Yen wanted the tournament to begin immediately so she had a place to focus her anger, but she had to wait for the signal.

  She reached for her calm while she waited. It wasn't there. She tried to think about her creature instead, to lose herself in its folds, but all she could think about was the stag ramming its antlers into the fat official, tossing him into the air, then trampling on him after he hit the ground. She shook herself mentally, shocked at herself. What would Fu Be Be say? Girls weren't supposed to think such things. The stag kept growing in her imagination, filling the courtyard, until he wore the bright orange canopy like a scarf woven through his antlers. With a single leap he cleared the wall around the school. Xiao Yen flew with her stag into silent woods filled with green jeweled trees, sipping water so cold it chilled her core like melted snow water.

  Abruptly, Xiao Yen came back to the courtyard. The men still talked. She looked at the space she had to work with. In her mind's eye, she placed her stag in it and tried to proportion her creature to the space. The stag kept growing. She'd never be able to contain it, to make it follow her bidding. She was too angry, and the stag would reflect that. She needed a still heart for such a creature.