by C Sharp
Chloe returned the glance from the corner of her eye. “I thought you didn’t buy into my whole Cow Thief theory, and I know how you feel about your dad’s research.”
Kirin shrugged. “I know something’s going on, and I like to think that I can keep an open mind,” he countered as he pulled into the crushed shell driveway beside a dark-stained arts and crafts house with a wraparound porch.
“I haven’t really been able to tell anyone about this yet,” Chloe admitted.
“Not even Stan?” Kirin probed.
Chloe shook her head. “Only a little; it’s kind of hard to explain.”
The Jeep came to a stop before the matching two-car garage behind the house. Kirin turned toward her with his hands still on the wheel and his eyebrows raised expectantly. The tinny clanks and ticks of the cooling engine were the only sound to fill the silence. Chloe didn’t know how to begin, unable to bring herself to finally put voice to all of the doubt and confusion that had been plaguing her for months. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again.
“You need to talk to my grandmother,” Kirin declared abruptly before hopping out with a loud metallic screech of the door. “Come on.”
Chloe followed slowly, hesitant to put weight on her legs as she stepped from the tall SUV. She winced but held in a groan as Kirin appeared beside her with an offered hand. She wasn’t sure what to expect as he helped her up the flight of wooden stairs toward the door to the little apartment above the garage. A wind chime of hollow reeds and shells clacked above the door in the gentle breeze. Kirin gave her an encouraging smile as she limped her way to the top.
“Sorry to make you climb,” he said, “but my Nai Nai wanted to meet you after she saw your race yesterday, and it sounds like you might want to meet her as well.”
“Nai Nai?” Chloe repeated.
“It’s what we call her, but it just means ‘grandmother’ in Mandarin.” He gave a gentle knock on the door.
Chloe anticipated a cracked voice summoning them to enter in Chinese or perhaps a long wait as the old woman she’d glimpsed on the field slowly made her way to the door. After only a couple seconds, the door swung open with surprising conviction, and Nai Nai stood smiling with a steaming kettle of water clutched in her hand. She was wrinkled, spotted, and small, but Chloe could tell instantly that there was nothing frail about the little woman who stood before her.
Nai Nai embraced Kirin with a one-armed hug before turning her sights on Chloe. The old woman looked her over for a moment and nodded in approval before waving her in and bustling back to the stove. There she poured the steaming spout of water into a waiting teapot that sat on a tray beside three fine teacups.
Kirin took Chloe by the hand again and led her to a little room with a sofa and some chairs around a low table. There was an array of finely tended orchids on display atop little pedestals in the corners: each stem was reinforced with wood and wire scaffolding, and every pot held at least six flowers in full bloom. “This was my dad’s orchid greenhouse before Nai Nai moved in. It’s another of his obsessions—he thinks they look like dragons.”
Chloe peered closer at one of the white blossoms nearest her, but had trouble picturing the fanged and horned head of Uktena in its place. “They’re beautiful,” she offered as he pointed her to a seat on the sofa. She fell into it with a stab of pain in her thighs and a little grunt.
He plopped beside her. “Hope you drink tea, because you’re about to.”
“I love tea,” Chloe answered. “Does your grandmother speak English?” she whispered as the old woman started toward them with the tray from the kitchen.
Kirin smiled.
“My husband went to university in England.” Nai Nai spoke with a thick accent. “I have not had much opportunity to practice since he died, but it comes back quickly with Kirin’s help.” She placed the tray on the table and sat in a particularly plush chair that was clearly designated for her before pouring the greenish-brown brew through a strainer that she held over each of the teacups.
Then she presented the cups first to Chloe and then to Kirin before taking up her own. Kirin waited until Nai Nai had taken a sip before bringing his own cup to his lips. Chloe watched him closely and did the same. Again the old woman seemed to acknowledge Chloe with an approving nod.
The tea was both naturally sweet and a little bitter but with a toasted rice aftertaste that Chloe really liked. She sipped again and felt a calm settle over her jangled nerves as the hot liquid traveled down to her belly.
“I have heard Kirin talk so much about you these last weeks that I finally demanded he take me to see you race yesterday.” She flashed her grandson a reproachful look. “I enjoyed watching you run. You have a strong heart and great…” she looked to Kirin. “What is it again?”
“Courage,” he answered with a sheepish grin.
“Yes, courage,” she repeated with a little shake of her fist. “When I was a girl, I was the youngest with three older brothers. I had to learn to run fast and be strong from an early age.”
“It seems your strength has served you well in life,” Chloe observed, wondering if it was appropriate to comment on the giant elephant in the room. “I can’t imagine all of the adversity and loss you’ve had to face recently,” she found herself saying. “Getting through that would take a courage I don’t think I possess.”
Nai Nai smiled. “That is the thing about courage: we cannot know if it is there until the time comes to show it.” The smile faded as she stared for a long moment into her teacup. “But when the ground shakes and the skies darken, there is no room for courage, only terror and prayer, and those who are lucky enough to be alive after.”
“Nai Nai thinks that mankind has grown complacent and that the world is readying to test our right to be here,” Kirin interjected. “Her stories were how my dad first discovered his interest in dragon myths as a kid.” He and Nai Nai shared a smirk. “You should hear some of the arguments they get into over dinner.”
“Arguments about what?” Chloe pressed.
“About the nature of myth,” Nai Nai answered. “Edward believes that myths are stories to help give insight into the past. I believe that the same stories can be guides for how to understand the present and prepare for the future.”
Chloe let those words settle over her for a moment before glancing at Kirin. “What do you believe?” she asked.
“I’m on the fence,” he answered with a diplomatic bob of his head.
Chloe turned back toward Nai Nai. “Do you believe in dragons?”
Nai Nai sipped her tea. “My mother believed there was truth to many of the old tales,” she answered. “When I was little, she told me stories about how there were still dragons deep down in the hidden places of the world. My brothers went away to school and then to work, but I stayed home and learned to sew and cook by mother’s side. She filled my head with legends and fables.” She smiled, remembering. “I grew up believing in ghosts, faeries, dragons, and more.”
“In the stories, could the dragons ever turn into humans?” Chloe asked quietly.
Nai Nai thought about it for a moment. “Most of the dragons could only be found in the wild, bound to the elements and only seen by the lucky few. But there were also stories of rare dragons with five claws, which could change form and enter the towns and cities to give wisdom to the worthy.” Her eyes looked past them to another time. “The five-clawed dragons had great power over earth, water, fire, air, and spirit, and some could grant wishes to those who met their favor. It is said that it was they who gave us the gifts of speech and writing and they who will one day take it away again—just like on my son’s cauldron.”
Chloe’s mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, but the words spilled out anyway. “What if it was happening now? What if the Tipping Point Prophecy was real?”
Nai Nai chuckled with her little frame shaking but her tea-holding hands remaining still. “My mother never told me that story; perhaps that one is yours to tell,”
she suggested.
“When she saw you finish the race yesterday, Nai Nai told me that you have the heart of a dragon,” Kirin said. “I kind of mentioned that you might have seen one flying around Charlottesville,” he added with a guilty grin.
Chloe shot Kirin a reproachful look before turning back to face Nai Nai’s unreadable gaze. Her heartbeat went wild, and she felt the impulse toward fight or flight, but Kirin placed his hand on her wrist and nodded.
“It’s cool. Tell her what you saw,” he encouraged.
Chloe smiled nervously. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“No,” answered Nai Nai.
But Dr. Markson’s words of warning came back to her. She couldn’t live with herself if she was the reason that this old woman was deported back to China or Kirin’s dad was sent to jail.
“I’m not even sure what I saw,” Chloe backpedaled. “It was like a big shadow with wings that swooped down to grab a cow from the field… But I was pretty sleep-deprived at the time,” she added with a chuckle.
Nai Nai watched her closely as Kirin waited for her to continue. “And Stan saw it, too,” he added, hoping to elicit more.
“Yeah, but he’s kind of an unreliable witness,” Chloe deflected.
Nai Nai smiled with a look that seemed to see right through Chloe’s attempt at deception. She took a long sip of tea and closed her eyes for a moment. “One of my favorite stories that Mother used to tell was of a very special group of people called the xian.” She looked to Kirin, “Do you know this one?”
He furrowed his brow and shook his head.
“Well, this is not Xian, like the city in China, but an older word in Taoism for enlightened people, who after years of focus and training became one with the elements. They lived beyond mortal constraints, having learned to harness the wind, earth, and rain for their purpose. It was said that some could fly, while others could swim like fish or weave fire in their hands.” She took another sip of tea. “They were also called Dragon Riders, and my mother told of how they learned to summon and harness the dragons long ago. Maybe it was even the xian that sent the dragons away, imprisoning them far underground and beyond the wall of sleep when the age of legends came to an end…”
Chloe thought of her lightning dream and remembered the feel of riding on Uktena’s back, traveling miles in a millisecond. Kirin remembered what it was to be one with the ocean, moving through it with long, supple strokes, flowing as living liquid, and yet bound also to the presence of the girl who sat beside him.
“I used to pretend that I was one of them, almost like your superheroes today,” Nai Nai added. “For a time, when I was very young, I actually believed that one day it would be so.” She smiled knowingly and placed her intense gaze back on Chloe. “Perhaps if the dragons return as you fear, the xian might return to save us once again?” she concluded just as the sound of a car crunched across the driveway outside. “I would love to talk more about this, but Edward has come to take me shopping for new glasses on his lunch break.”
Chloe wasn’t sure what to say. “It was wonderful to meet you. Thank you.”
Nai Nai stood.
Chloe and Kirin started up as well, but the old woman waved them back down. “No, you two stay and finish your tea; I’m sure you have plenty to talk about,” she encouraged before bustling toward the door to claim her jacket from the coat hanger. “It was very nice to finally meet you, too, Chloe,” she said with a deep nod that almost looked like a bow from across the room. “Just to see a dragon is a sign of good fortune in Chinese lore.” She opened the door to go, but hesitated before stepping out. “I have a feeling that you are meant for great things, and I am glad to know that Kirin will be there to help you achieve them.” She left with a little smile. The door closed gently behind her.
“She’s amazing,” said Chloe to break the silence that followed.
“Yeah, but what was that?” Kirin countered. “You’re not telling me something.”
Chloe took another calming sip of the tea. “It’s kind of hard to tell.” She felt a swell of encouragement from the old woman’s words. “But maybe I could just show you? Tomorrow after school, my mom will be working late. You can drive me home, and I promise once and for all to show you something hidden in my barn that will completely change your life.” She put out her hand to shake on it.
“Hmmm, not really sure if you’re going for aloof and mysterious again, or if this is all some bizarro, unnecessary ploy to get me alone in the hay,” he said with an eyebrow pump as he took her hand and they shook. “Either way, I’m in.”
The Feathered Serpent
The far side of the moon is permanently turned away from the shining brilliance of Earth, shielded from the unending clatter of radio waves that lance recklessly through space. There, amid the frozen wasteland of darkness and utter silence, at the bottom of an ancient crater from before the time of life in this galaxy, the ground stirred.
At first, the sediment danced in a series of sequential rings, as if with a tremor, but then slowly a form emerged from the dust with a shower of minute grains drifting lazily back to the surface. A massive serpentine form uncoiled from within the cloud and shook off a centuries of ice crystals and mineral deposit.
Quetzalcoatl flared the featherlike scales that covered his three-hundred-foot body, and a fluttering wave of brightly patterned rings emerged from the grey film that had long hidden his splendor. An undulating ripple of shifting rainbow colors traveled down his length. With a last rattling shake of his tail, his scaled plumage settled, and he unfurled the immense angelic wings that had for so long been folded at his back.
The old civilizations of Mesoamerica had worshipped him as a god of the sky, bringer of food and rain and the maker of kings. They carved his visage into the sides of their temples and sacrificed jaguars, birds, and their enemies to curry his favor. For millennia, he had bestowed his wisdom and guidance onto the worthy through the ritual smoke above their incense burners. Some still told tales of his pending return, passed on from generation to generation in an archaic tongue. Dates had been carved long ago into standing stones by those who had listened to his whispered command.
The Feathered Serpent flapped his powerful wings and lifted from the pockmarked landscape. He longed to feel the weight and pull of the earth’s gravity once more, having spent too many years sleeping near the emptiness of the vacuum. He had awoken from restless dreams, where the humans looked again to the skies to behold his homecoming with prayers and lamentation as the winds of change followed in his wake.
He crossed the wide distance to the bright side of the moon with only three unhurried flaps of his outstretched wings. Tornadoes whipped through the dust beneath him as he went, tearing across the dead terrain before finally losing steam in the low pressure void. On Earth, these spiraling little storms would not be stilled so easily. Each would grow in the gravitational conditions that sustain life and would soon fuel the death he would bring.
The kaleidoscopic swirl in his primeval gaze locked onto the blue-and-green beacon of his home, and again he heard the chime, buzz, and chatter of the signals that the humans cast out toward the unknown reaches. He touched down again with a couple more flaps buffeting against the lunar highlands, and a minor hurricane of basalt and regolith spun out from the place where he landed.
Quetzalcoatl turned to look at the position of the sun and then the planets that circled in orbit. The galactic alignment was not right, though it would be soon. After so long asleep, the knowledge of what was to come filled him with unavoidable excitement, but also a great well of sadness. He turned back toward Earth and closed his heavy lids to listen to the last few breaths of mankind.
Chapter 26
G-Men
Despite the looming prospect of calamity, Chloe sat beside Kirin in homeroom the next morning consumed with giddy excitement. Kirin had told her about his dream, and she had described her own, and the two of them had fantasized about becoming like the xian of old. It reminded
Chloe of the unbridled enthusiasm she had shared with Liz summers back, at the start of each new obsession. As Mr. Jacobson rambled on in his emotionless tone about the role of the legislative body, she and Kirin shot each other meaningful glances in the back of class.
They’d spent the rest of the previous day talking—over lunch, then phone, and then text—until Dr. Liou had shut it down just before midnight. They’d shared stories about lost parents, secret fears, and grand hypotheses about the universe. Together they felt more like the individuals they’d always wanted to be. Now it was as if there was some sort of force field surrounding just them, making everything else outside it seem muffled and blurry. Within, life was vivid and full of potential.
Sitting in front of them, Liz could sense the difference, uncharacteristically keeping her eyes locked on the blackboard, though she wore an odd little smile that did not seem to fit the topic. The rest of the class was utterly oblivious, unable to conceive that the two quietest students in the far corner could somehow be bound to the struggle for the future of mankind or that they were gearing up to face so daunting a task with a disproportionate level of optimism.
Chloe knew that the whole thing was irrational, even ridiculous, having moved from the comfort of her beloved science into the realm of science fiction. But she was ready to be a part of something that truly mattered, and she couldn’t ignore the inexplicable events that had brought her to this point. The weird connection with lightning, the dragon in the barn, the legend of the xian, and now Kirin beside her—it all just felt right.
She hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, too worked up by all that was happening to still the rapid-fire thoughts that swam through her mind: How does a dragon respond to unwanted visitors? Will Kirin know what to do? What if Uktena tries to eat him? When should I tell Stan and my mom what’s going on?
Uktena hadn’t been there the night before when Chloe had used the excuse of taking out the trash to slip into the barn and propose the pending meet and greet. She’d had to leave another note, this time detailing her plan to bring Kirin over after last period on Monday to “help determine how to avoid detection by the Daedalus Group.” She even proposed that maybe it would make sense to bring Stan into the initiated circle soon after so that Uktena might rely on a cohesive team to “best look out for your continued interests and safety.” Now she could only pray that the dragon had been contentedly fed when he’d read it.