Paper Mage

by Leah R. Cutter

  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, rifting 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 altogether, 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 . . .

  * * *

  “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, uncarved 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 had 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 to their plan.

  Xiao Yen also needed information about the city, about Vakhtang, about everything. Bei Xi said they would find him here. But where?

  As they finished their fourth pot of tea, Xiao Yen realized Young Lu was content to sit, share stories, and not move for the rest of the afternoon. Young Lu hadn’t invited Xiao Yen to see the rest of the compound, even though she was family.

  Desperate, Xiao Yen decided to risk a question. Bei Xi had said that her little sister had had her own temples in the north, so she asked, “Have you ever heard of Jhr Bei?”

  Young Lu looked startled. A servant entered, bringing fresh tea. Young Lu waved the servant away. “You want to go there, pray?” She slurred her words together, so that “there, pray” sounded like Jhr Bei.

  “Yes,” Xiao Yen answered, not sure what her aunt was up to. “There. Pray.” She, too, ran the words together so they sounded like Jhr Bei.

  Young Lu gazed across the table, not seeing anything for a moment. When she turned to Xiao Yen, her voice was normal, but she pressed her lips together tightly, as if holding back what she really wanted to say.

  “My old bones won’t make it to the dragon temple this afternoon, though I pray for release every day. But we have a small altar here. Come, niece. Let’s pray together here, first.”

  Xiao Yen didn’t know if there was any hidden meaning in her aunt’s words, so she waited without saying anything while her aunt rose. Something was wrong with Young Lu’s ankle. She depended on a plain wooden cane to walk. She’d been lame a long time—the head of her cane was polished smooth from handling—although Xiao Yen would bet that her aunt hadn’t been born that way. Young Lu held her head high, as if she were s
till a coltish girl. Xiao Yen wondered what had happened to her aunt, if her deformity had something to do with the scandal surrounding her life, why she lived up north, so far away from the rest of the family. Fu Be Be wouldn’t talk about it. Neither would Wang Tie-Tie.

  Udo lay with his head touching the top stair and his feet almost stretched out to the bottom stair. He opened his eyes as Xiao Yen and Young Lu passed.

  “Soon,” Xiao Yen said, not wanting to pause.

  Udo grunted and closed his eyes again.

  Young Lu took Xiao Yen through the gate separating the formal front courtyard from the back. The family courtyard was much like the one Xiao Yen had grown up in, with low wooden houses built on stilts, leaning against the walls. Young Lu led her niece straight to her own bedroom. An altar holding a single ancestor tablet stood in the corner opposite the door. Xiao Yen guessed it was for Young Lu’s husband, who had died only a year ago or so. Fresh flowers lay on the altar, still holding morning dewdrops—or were they tears?

  A bed stood against the far wall of the room, heaped high with colorful quilts and furs. At the foot of the bed stood an elegant black-and-gold lacquered wardrobe with several village scenes painted on it. Young Lu made Xiao Yen wait by the dressing table next to the door. Xiao Yen couldn’t see beyond her aunt’s skinny shoulders as she fiddled with something in the opposite corner. She heard a quiet click. Her aunt backed away carrying something. It took a moment for Xiao Yen to realize that her aunt didn’t hold a part of the wall, but a painting that looked like the wall. Xiao Yen stepped closer, to see what her aunt had revealed.

  A tiny shrine stood recessed into the wall. It was as well kept as the ancestor altar, with fresh flowers and a thimble of wine. An ancient wooden plaque stood at the back of the shrine. The paint on it had been worn away. Xiao Yen had to lean closer to see the faint outline that remained. It looked like a half-snake, half-human picture of Nü-gua, except the face had more definition in it, and the hair, instead of being bound up, was long and flowing.

  Xiao Yen said aloud, “Jhr Bei.”

  Young Lu’s eyes filled with tears. “You know.” After another moment, she continued in a conversational tone. “It’s forbidden to worship Our Lady. Or even to grieve for her, after that monster Vakhtang ate her soul. If anyone found out about this shrine, the soldiers would throw me into the pits beneath the governor’s house. I’d never see daylight again.”

  Young Lu spoke without emotion, as if she were describing the market in the city. She genuflected in front of the altar again, then straightened up.

  “I keep the shrine anyway. I offer respect, and beg for vengeance.” Young Lu was a small bird of a woman, with thin bones and fine skin. Yet Xiao Yen still saw the strength that held her aunt together.

  “Aunt,” Xiao Yen said. “I’m here to—”

  Young Lu interrupted. “I don’t want to know your plans. If Vakhtang’s soldiers capture me, I don’t want to be able to give you away.”

  Xiao Yen doubted that a barbed whip could tear a whisper from Young Lu if she decided not to talk. However, she saw the wisdom in her aunt’s decision.

  “Udo and I need supplies. We’re going to the rat dragon’s cave first, then Vakhtang’s.”

  “The foreigner? He’s going with you?” Young Lu asked. She looked surprised.

  Xiao Yen said. “He is. Jhr Bei’s sister said he should.”

  Young Lu’s eyes grew large, but her voice remained calm. “What I have is yours. I can tell you of the rat dragon’s cave, of Vakhtang, his soldiers, anything.”

  “Thank you,” Xiao Yen said. She bowed to her aunt.

  “I should be the one thanking you,” Young Lu replied, bowing even deeper.

  That evening, Xiao Yen and Udo ate dinner privately in his room, separate from the rest of the household. Though Young Lu had told her servants that they’d be whipped and thrown out if they gossiped about their guests, she didn’t know for certain if they’d hold their tongues. It was best to keep both Xiao Yen and Udo out of sight. Young Lu trusted her in-laws and the other members of the household a bit more, but there were many children, and who knew what they’d say without thinking, and to whom?

  Just as Xiao Yen and Udo finished their dinner of rabbit and celery stew, Young Lu joined them. She brought a small bowl of dried apple pieces with her, to help her guests clear their palates.

  “Apples!” Udo cried out when he saw them. He took the bowl from Young Lu without asking, then picked out one of the pieces and examined it.

  Xiao Yen blushed at his rudeness. Though she’d wanted to eat dinner with the rest of the household, to be with family, she’d agreed to Young Lu’s plan to stay out of sight. Now, she was glad she’d agreed. She’d traveled with Udo and the others for long enough that she’d forgotten how little the foreigners knew about manners. At least the room was dark, and the candlelight hid her blush a little.

  Young Lu knelt down next to Xiao Yen at the low table holding the remnants of their dinner, then reached over and patted her niece’s hand. “I see that even with foreigners, men are still boys.”

  Xiao Yen nearly giggled. At least, Young Lu hadn’t taken offense. And she was right. Udo did look younger, his eyes even rounder with delight as he tasted an apple piece.

  “My family owns an orchard. We grow apples, and other fruits,” Udo said. “I haven’t seen many apples since I left. This one seems different from the ones we grow. The flesh is more firm, even when it’s dried. The fruit is smaller too. Can you tell me anything about how apples are grown here?”

  “What’s he saying?” Young Lu asked.

  “If I understand him right, his family grew apples on their land. I think he’s comparing the apples, and wants to know more about these.”

  Young Lu was happy to explain. “These apples grow wild in the hills, just south and west of the city. We get the best of the crop. My youngest son-in-law has a friend whose cousin oversees the crop as it comes in. He always directs our cooks to the best sellers in the market.”

  Xiao Yen translated as best she could, though family connections were always difficult to describe.

  “You don’t grow them? You gather them?” Udo asked, incredulous. “Why would you do that?” The criticism was obvious in his voice.

  Young Lu sat up primly when she heard Udo’s reaction, the flickering candlelight casting stern shadows across her face. “Wild apples have more natural essences in them. They’re better for you than those grown in an orchard. Though you shouldn’t ever eat apples if you’re sick. You might keep the sickness with you, because the word for ‘sick’ is so similar to the word for ‘apple.’ ”

  Xiao Yen struggled with the translation, trying to explain “essence” and “natural” with her limited vocabulary.

  Udo shook his head when he understood, as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Apples are healthy for you. If you don’t eat dried apples during the winter, your teeth grow loose.”

  Young Lu made a quiet comment to Xiao Yen about “uncivilized foreigner.”

  Udo replied with a quiet comment about “superstitious barbarians.”

  Xiao Yen didn’t translate either.

  After a moment’s strained silence, Xiao Yen said, “Tell us about your home, Udo.”

  Udo glared at her for a moment, as if he resented her trying to end the argument. Xiao Yen suspected he was still upset with Young Lu for making him wait outside the Hall of Politeness that afternoon.

  He picked up another apple piece. His expression softened. “The orchard was a magical place. I always thought so, at least. My gran told me stories of the special creatures that lived in the orchard, the Elfe and Heinzelmaennchen and such.” At Xiao Yen’s puzzled look, he said, “Creatures that aren’t real, that exist only in stories. Like, well, like Bei Xi. Stories you hear about, but know aren’t true.”

  “Bei Xi is true,” Xiao Yen said. How could he not believe in the goddess, especially after he’d seen her? Xiao Yen herself was a mage. Did he not believe in her magi
c either?

  “Until I started traveling, I didn’t believe those stories. But now, who knows?” Udo paused, his eyes growing bright and childlike again. “The first magician we traveled with never let us watch him enchant that cloth. Sometimes I wondered if he actually did it, or if he’d just bought a bunch of magic rugs. But now I’ve traveled with a mage who lives and breathes magic.” Udo paused and smiled softly at Xiao Yen.

  The admiration and wonder in Udo’s voice made Xiao Yen blush again. She thought of herself as a girl who sometimes performed magic, not as someone magical.

  “I’ll never think of magic in the same way,” Udo continued. “I’ve even met someone you call a goddess. We’re going to go fight a dragon. Maybe the stories my gran told were true too.”

  Xiao Yen shrugged. She didn’t know. Yet, how could magic not exist in the foreign world? That would be very strange indeed. It must exist, just not in the way it existed in the Middle Kingdom.

  “Tell me about the dragon. How are we going to fight it? I’m going to need a sword and shield,” he said, addressing Young Lu.

  Xiao Yen had already grilled her aunt that afternoon for information about the dragon, so she summarized her knowledge for Udo.

  “The dragon isn’t really a proper dragon. It’s a mindless beast, created by a foreign magician out of a rat.”

  Young Lu, not understanding Xiao Yen’s words, started piling dishes up onto a carrying tray. Xiao Yen helped herd dishes across the table toward her aunt.

  “Vakhtang suffers the beast’s existence because it’s a good guard of the western mountain passes for him. It knows enough to not hunt the people from Khan Hua, but, instead, harries the caravans and other people from the east. It also feeds on prisoners Vakhtang sends it sometimes. There’s a huge pile of garbage outside the main entrance, so it’s easy to find the place where it lives.”

  “If it’s so easy to find, why hasn’t someone killed it?” Udo asked, chewing another apple piece with relish.