by Cutter, Leah
Xiao Yen picked up one of the woven baskets, while the old man took the other three. It was heavier than she'd expected—the inside was lined with leaves then covered with wax to make it waterproof. It smelled of fish and saltwater. She followed the fisherman to a small shack. All the way there the old man chanted in a language Xiao Yen didn't know, like a priest saying his morning prayers on his way to temple.
He placed his baskets under the eaves of the shack, next to dozens of other baskets then indicated Xiao Yen should do the same. When she turned around, she found the old man was staring at her intently. She felt like a pika under the gaze of a plains hawk.
“Thank you, Xiao Yen,” he said, bowing low. “This town is indebted to you. I am indebted to you, more than you know.” He straightened up, leaned on his bamboo pole, and tilted his head to one side. “Would you do an old man a great honor and accompany me for a short while? We have things to discuss, you and I.” He smiled at her again, like a father looking upon his first son.
Xiao Yen heard herself agree, though the words came out of her mouth without her volition.
The old man said, “Good.” He turned and headed up the road again. Xiao Yen followed. A little way along, where the road narrowed into the coastal trail, he took a side path that Xiao Yen hadn't noticed before. It wound between boulders bigger than the fisherman's shack, a small brown ribbon through the bright grass. The wind blew constantly from the sea, ruffling Xiao Yen's hair, driving away the heat from the sun.
Xiao Yen and the old fisherman didn't talk. She followed him along the trail and tried to see who or what he was. She thought she saw blue in his shadow, but then the wind blew it away. She tried to see him with her mind's eye. The image of a solid, burning core—like a flaming sword—came to her. The flames burned stronger than the sun, like they would burn forever.
Xiao Yen paused, one foot in midair.
Wang Tie-Tie's stories of a fisherman with perfect teeth came back to her.
Her foot hit the ground, jarring her. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She couldn't stop shaking inside.
When they crested the next hill, Xiao Yen caught her breath in surprise. They were approaching Crane Bay. The marshy grass waved in the wind, the green sparkling as though wet emeralds were strewn through it. Three herons stalked the edges of the marsh on their stiltlike legs. A few black-tailed seagulls bobbed on the waves. The far side of the bay was protected by a tall craggy cliff. Shelves jutted out from the vertical face, with the remains of nests sitting on them and long white streaks of droppings. The wind died down as they dropped below the head of the hill.
A brightly painted pagoda lay ahead of them. Its gray-tile roof curled up at the corners, supported by large red-lacquered poles. Green planks ran at waist level between the pillars, perfect for leaning against and watching the cranes. It housed a small altar dedicated to the White Crane boy, who'd excelled in good deeds when he'd been alive, and now sometimes brought answers to prayers from the gods.
The old fisherman led Xiao Yen to the pavilion, sat down on one of the benches, and invited her to join him. Xiao Yen approached hesitantly. She wanted to kneel and press her forehead on the ground before him, yet she didn't want to seem presumptuous.
She sat down on the edge of the bench and peered at the old man, wanting a sign from him to tell her how to act, how to treat him.
He smiled at her again, showing his perfect teeth, then laughed. “You know who I am, don't you?”
“O honorable sir,” Xiao Yen began, slipping off the bench and sinking to her knees. How could she dare to have her head at the same level as the patron saint of her chosen profession, the immortal Zhang Gua Lao? The same man who'd loved Wang Tie-Tie so many years before?
“My dear girl,” he said, interrupting her. “Please, sit, and talk with an ancient man. You can call me Old Zhang,” he said, patting the bench beside him.
Xiao Yen rose and sat next to him, her back stiff, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes on the floor. She wanted to stare at him, to touch him to make sure he was real, but she didn't want to be rude or treat him like a foreigner.
“I am in your debt, you know,” he said.
Xiao Yen replied, “No, it is I who am in your debt, for allowing this unworthy person into your presence.”
Old Zhang continued as if he hadn't heard Xiao Yen. “Vakhtang killed my family. All of them. I have no relations left to walk this earth, to watch over. I swore revenge, but my fellow immortals cautioned patience. Vakhtang kept living, kept doing evil deeds. You put an end to that. I am in your debt,” he finished, bowing his head low.
Staying bent over, he twisted his head so he was looking at her almost upside down. He looked so comical Xiao Yen started to laugh. She put her hand up to cover her mouth so he wouldn't be offended. “A cautious one you are,” he said, straightening up. “But bright. And steady as a mountain, now.” He bowed his head toward her, approving.
Xiao Yen blushed and looked at her hands again. Old Zhang didn't say anything for a moment. She heard a rustling. She glanced up. He was taking things from the bags on his belt and placing them on the bench between them.
“I want you to choose your reward,” he said in a tone that reminded her of Master Wei.
Two items sat on the bench. One was a gleaming white-paper box. Loops twisted upon themselves covered the top. It glowed with its own internal light.
The other item was a peach. It also glowed, a warm miniature sun. Just looking at it calmed Xiao Yen. It was perfectly proportioned, with a slight red blush down one side.
“The box,” Old Zhang explained, “contains the gold from the rat dragon. The peach is from the garden of Xi Mong Yu. It's sometimes called a peach of immortality. It will take you to Peng-lai, the Isle of the Blessed, where you can live forever in peace. I know that your short time on the wheel of life has been trying.”
Xiao Yen's urge to kneel and place her head on the floor returned. She gulped back her wonder at his understanding and forced herself to consider his offer. She stared at the peach, then at the box, for many heartbeats before she responded. The wind in her head rustled, and her calm solidified.
“I see three choices, not two,” she started.
Old Zhang smiled, pleased.
Xiao Yen continued. “The box is two gifts. First is the box itself. You would have to show me how to open it. With diligent study, my master, Master Wei, I'm sure, could learn how to recreate it. After many years of practice, if I proved not to be too stupid, maybe I could learn the form as well. That is a selfish reward, just for myself. I will not choose it.
“The gold inside would not be for me, but for my former client, Udo. He and his brother are banished, and need money to buy their way back into their land. Though I consider them my friends, they are still foreigners, not from the Middle Kingdom. So I do not choose this gift.
“My Wang Tie-Tie, Wang Kong-Jing, met you when she was a young girl. She's always dreamed of having such a peach, so that is what I would chose as my reward, that I might bring it to my aunt, that she might live forever in peace, off the wheel of death and rebirth.”
Xiao Yen's quiet expanded up to her shoulders and sent a shiver through her arms, behind her ears, and up to the top of her skull. The cliff in front of her was as solid as her resolve.
Old Zhang looked surprised. “Wang Kong-Jing?” he asked.
“You met her in Bao Fang, before she was married. Her maiden name was Li.”
Old Zhang stared at the floor in front of him, thinking hard. A slow smile crept across his face. “Mei-Mei,” he said, caressing the name with his tongue. A golden light sprang up in the spot where he stared. It was full of dust motes, some shiny, some dark. They rearranged themselves into the outline of a beautiful woman in long robes, holding a fan. “Mei-Mei,” Old Zhang said again. Then he blew at the light. It faded and the motes scattered to the corners of the pavilion. He looked sad now.
Xiao Yen didn't kno
w what to say.
After another moment, the old man picked up the peach, raised it to eye level, bowed his head and handed it to Xiao Yen. Just as formally, Xiao Yen accepted the peach and placed it in her sleeve. She slipped off the bench, knelt and bowed low to Old Zhang, then left the pavilion.
She hadn't taken more than a few steps up the dirt path before he called her back.
* * *
“Come, Ehran,” Tuo Nu said, helping the portly foreigner to stand. “Time to go back to your inn.” Both Udo and Ehran had drunk a lot of wine celebrating with Xiao Yen and Tuo Nu. The next week, if the weather was fine, they would begin their journey back to their land. Xiao Yen started back to Bao Fang the next day. They'd gathered at Tuo Nu's rooms for one last evening together.
Ehran turned and bowed toward Xiao Yen, then said something. It took a moment for Xiao Yen to realize that he'd tried to say something in her language.
“Good journey you too,” she said, bowing from where she was seated. She smiled at him, and wondered again what Udo had said to him.
Udo started to rise as well when Xiao Yen stopped him.
“Stay,” she said.
Udo sank back to the floor with a grunt. Though he'd had his share of the wine, he didn't seem as drunk as Ehran. He did seem tired, maybe from all the planning and fierce bargaining for their trip.
“Tuo Nu, could you walk Ehran home? Udo will follow soon,” Xiao Yen said.
Tuo Nu let Ehran out the door then turned back. “Are you sure you don't want a chaperon?” he asked, indicating Udo with his chin.
Udo gazed at Xiao Yen with a satisfied look, like a man just finished with dinner and staring at dessert.
Xiao Yen said, “No, I can handle him. He will be along in a short time.”
Tuo Nu said, “All right. If you shout, the neighbors will hear.”
Xiao Yen was outraged. What did he mean by that? Before she could respond, he stepped out the door.
“I have present for good-bye,” Xiao Yen told Udo. She picked up the small wooden box she had sitting next to her. From inside the box, she took another box made out of white folded paper. She placed the paper box on the table before them.
“What's that?” he asked.
“Puzzle,” she said. Eight rings decorated the top of the paper box, made of strips of paper that had been twisted once then folded together. “You must learn puzzle to open box. Very important,” she added, when he looked skeptical.
Xiao Yen counted through the rings, from the smallest to largest. Then she showed him how to untwist them, starting with the second and fourth rings. He seemed intrigued, and learned faster than Xiao Yen had hoped. Finally they were at the last fold. Xiao Yen made Udo practice every twist up to the last fold twice, to make sure he had it memorized. Then she moved the box to the center of the small table, undid the last fold, and blew on the box.
It unfolded itself rapidly, fold upon fold, like a giant lotus blossom. A deep tone, like echoes from a bronze bell, filled the tiny room. Twice more the paper unfolded, then it lay on the table like a blanket, its secret revealed. In its center sat a large glittering pile of gold, silver and jewels.
Udo's eyes were more round Xiao Yen had ever seen them. His mouth opened and shut, but no sounds came out.
“This rat dragon treasure. For your banished,” she added.
“Banishment,” Udo corrected her without taking his eyes from the pile. “Why?” he asked, unable to articulate more.
“You foreigner. This not your home. You go home now,” Xiao Yen said, wishing again that she could speak his language better. She longed to tell him how alien he was, how much he belonged in his own land. Or how much his understanding had helped her.
“Thank you,” he said, turning to look at her. Some of the age in his eyes had turned to wonder, taking years off his face.
“Last fold, not strong,” she instructed. “Only open box, one, maybe two more times. Understand?” she told him, starting to fold up the box again. Udo nodded. She didn't think he could only open it a couple of more times, but she didn't want him to show it to Ehran, not yet, not until they were on their way home.
Xiao Yen showed Udo how to crease the four corners, then gather them together so the folds touched. The dazzling white paper folded so stiffly, but felt like smooth silk when she stroked it. She tugged on it three times then let go as the paper folded itself back up. Soon it was in its compact form again. Xiao Yen picked up the box and handed it to Udo the same way Old Zhang had handed it to her, hands held high with head bowed.
Udo accepted the box. He grunted when he felt how light it was. He shook it. No sound came from within it.
Then Xiao Yen gave him the wooden box that she'd had a cooper make that afternoon. Udo put the paper box inside the wooden one and gazed at it for another moment. The paper reflected every bit of candlelight in the room, and shone against the red silk lining the box.
Udo closed the lid reluctantly. The top of the wooden box had a twisted gold chain painted on it. He touched the painting and asked, “What's this for?”
Xiao Yen touched the matching twisted gold dragon whisker around her neck and replied, “For luck.”
* * *
Xiao Yen slipped into Wang Tie-Tie's room as quietly as a mouse slipping away from a cat. She'd arrived during the middle of the day, when the household napped, thereby avoiding seeing anyone else. She'd wanted to see Fat Fang before she saw her family, but he'd refused to see her without an appointment, which she now had, one hour hence.
Wang Tie-Tie didn't wake up until Xiao Yen reached out and touched her. Then her eyes snapped to attention. Only they held life. The rest of Wang Tie-Tie's body didn't change. It had betrayed her, grown weak while her mind stayed alert, alive.
“Did you?” was Wang Tie-Tie's question.
Xiao Yen suppressed her smile. Of course Wang Tie-Tie wouldn't waste time asking Xiao Yen of her journeys or express surprise at seeing her. She would only ask of Xiao Yen's duty. Wang Tie-Tie had chosen her course, as surely as Xiao Yen had chosen her own.
Silently Xiao Yen brought the peach out of her sleeve and presented it to her aunt, holding it above her head. When she heard Wang Tie-Tie's intake of breath she lowered her hands and allowed herself to look at her aunt. The wonder suffusing Wang Tie-Tie's face filled Xiao Yen with joy. She wished she could somehow bottle the moment, like a magical elixir that she could later open and enjoy again and again.
Wang Tie-Tie looked past the peach into Xiao Yen's eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice breaking.
“I was only doing my duty,” Xiao Yen replied.
Wang Tie-Tie sighed. “You have done your duty,” she said. “Nothing less would ever satisfy either you or me. You are my true heir.”
Xiao Yen bowed her head, knowing she'd just received the highest praise Wang Tie-Tie could give. To her, only duty mattered. Nothing, not love, gratitude, or family, was as important.
With great ceremony, Xiao Yen gave the peach to Wang Tie-Tie.
The peach glowed like a candle in Wang Tie-Tie's pale fingers. It lit up her face as she brought it closer, illuminating the wrinkles around her eyes, the translucent quality of her skin.
With the first bite, the peach dissolved into a golden blanket, like ten thousand dust motes spinning in evening sunlight. The light wrapped itself around Wang Tie-Tie's body, encasing her in a fine, translucent veil. Then it lifted up, taking Wang Tie-Tie's soul with it, through the ceiling, flying to the Isle of the Blessed.
Xiao Yen stayed kneeling on the hard floor for a long while. She'd just caused another's death, another black mark against her soul. It seemed to be her fate.
Xiao Yen reached up to hold Wang Tie-Tie's hand. It was already cool to the touch. The wrinkled skin felt softer than Gan Ou's new baby, as if all the living Wang Tie-Tie had done had polished her skin until it was smooth like silk. Her aunt had been such a strong influence in Xiao Yen's life. She was glad that Wang Tie-Tie would now watch over Xiao Yen forever, through ever
y cycle of Xiao Yen's death and rebirth. This made her smile through her tears.
Xiao Yen kissed the back of Wang Tie-Tie's hand, then placed it on the bed. She stood up slowly, as if some of Wang Tie-Tie's age had found its way into her knees.
Wang Tie-Tie's eyes were already closed. The lines of her face had softened in death, and her cheeks seemed more filled out.
Xiao Yen thought of the golden outline of the girl Mei-Mei that Old Zhang had shown her, and could see the resemblance now in Wang Tie-Tie's face. What a beauty she'd been. Xiao Yen bowed again to Wang Tie-Tie, as deeply as she'd bowed to Old Zhang. She slipped out the door as quietly as she'd come.
It was time to see Fat Fang and warn him of the coming danger.
* * *
“I know it isn't adequate, for a great mage like you, but I pray that an honorable person like yourself can find it in your heart to accept such lodging from our humble village.” The headman stumbled over his tongue many more times as he walked with Xiao Yen past the edge of the village, into the fields.
Xiao Yen fanned herself as she walked. She'd have to get used to the hot, humid weather in this province. She'd never been so far south before.
A shack stood at the end of the first rice paddy, its door facing north, with windows on all sides. The village was giving it to her in exchange for her protective creatures and spells. It was made from a light wood, with a plain roof. Fields surrounded it on three sides. A limestone cliff stood to the west. Xiao Yen felt the quiet rising from the rock, through the chatter of the headman.
“It will be perfect,” Xiao Yen said. She needed to be out in the fields to watch for animals that might come and trample the crops, and to give the village warning if bandits or soldiers approached.
The front room held a desk and chair, with a few pillows and some shelves. The back room, with a window facing the cliff, had a platform bed in it, piled with covers. Both rooms smelled musty. Though the air was still, Xiao Yen heard a wind blowing in her head, a comforting rushing sound. She would be just fine here. She'd always wanted a room of her own, like Master Wei's or Tuo Nu's. She'd be alone here, and possibly lonely, but with calm and magic running through the core of her life, through her choices.