Paper Mage

by Leah R. Cutter

  Xiao Yen took a deep breath. Should she start again? She could correct the club foot, some, but not the skinny one. Her deafening silence had leaked out a little. On the edges, she felt her calm returning. Folding was familiar to her, and though she was under pressure to perform, it still soothed her.

  She got out a third sheet of paper from her bag. Her arms trembled when she raised them. Her fingers felt drained of blood. Her calm circled her slowly, eating at the darkness of her panic. Instead of radiating out from her, it approached from the outside and worked its way inward. She lowered her arms and let the night speak to her, the distant crickets, a soft breeze rustling the pine needles, the whisperings of the occasional bat overhead. She breathed deeply, and felt places in her shoulders that she hadn’t realized were tight, loosen. A wind sprang up and blew in her face, not strong, but noticeable. She ignored it and went back to her folding.

  Suddenly, she heard a crashing behind her. Xiao Yen scrambled to her feet.

  An elephant towered above her.

  Xiao Yen put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. The elephant trumpeted at her, lifting its long nose high over its head to proclaim its anger. Xiao Yen picked up her bag and held it in front of her while she took a step back. Why hadn’t she finished the first piece? If she had, at least she’d have some protection.

  The elephant didn’t lower its tusks and charge her. It raised its left ear and turned its head, as if it were listening for instructions from behind it. Then it pulled up a clump of grass and put it in its mouth. Xiao Yen watched in fascination as it masticated and flapped its ears at her.

  Tuo Nu appeared behind the elephant, slapping it hard on the rump, saying something in a language Xiao Yen didn’t understand; the mage’s native dialect, she presumed. The elephant nodded and moved away. Xiao Yen was surprised at Tuo Nu’s appearance. His face was pale, even in the dark, and his hands shook.

  “I saw you were having difficulties,” he explained as he came up. “I know it was presumptuous, but I thought I would do the protection for tonight. It will give you time to practice, so you can do the defense for tomorrow night.”

  “That elephant is magic?” Xiao Yen asked. It affected the mundane world, seeming a natural part of it, actually. Tuo Nu must be a powerful mage indeed, though he sounded out of breath, as if he’d just run a long race. Was his magic so different? Did he work more closely with the elements?

  “Yes, I conjured it,” he said, taking deep breaths, struggling to keep his breath even. “It took a little effort.”

  Xiao Yen shook her head. What had she been thinking, to ever believe she could make a riving as a mage? When there were such powerful mages already in the world? She walked silently next to Tuo Nu into the camp. Udo’s eyes followed her, but he didn’t say a word. Xiao Yen didn’t know what to say to him.

  She sighed and went to her tent, wishing she was ten thousand li away. Her magic didn’t affect the mundane world like Tuo Nu’s. She didn’t know if Fat Fang or Long Yen’s creations were now as powerful as Tuo Nu’s, if it was something to do with age, or with her being a girl, or if Tuo Nu’s magic was that much different from hers.

  She lay down on her comforter and didn’t cry, though she felt deep holes torn through her heart. She missed her luck, Wang Tie-Tie, Fu Be Be, and Gan Ou. She resolved that she’d see her family soon. She’d warn them of the coming war, make them safe.

  Then she’d never leave home again.

  * * *

  “We’re so attracted to each other,” Bing Yu confided, leaning closer to Xiao Yen. “The moon god must have tied our ankles together with a red ribbon when we were born.”

  Xiao Yen couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice. “You’ve met your fiancé? Did your family arrange it?” She knew mores and customs were different at various levels of society, but she didn’t think Governor Fang’s family would be that dissimilar to her own.

  Bing Yu shook her head and laughed. “No, silly.” She looked behind her and on either side, scanning the crowds of people in the street for someone who might know her, before she continued, “We met in private. My father doesn’t know.”

  “Oh,” Xiao Yen replied. She didn’t know what else to say. How could Bing Yu do such a reckless thing? Her reputation would be ruined if anyone found out. Her father might renounce her and kick her out of their home.

  Bing Yu laughed again and said, “Xiao Yen! Your eyes are as round as your mouth saying ‘Oh,’ You shouldn’t be so shocked. Everyone meets before the wedding, these days.”

  “Without their family’s knowledge?” Xiao Yen asked.

  “Shh,” Bing Yu said. “Keep your voice down. Everybody does it. No one talks about it.”

  Xiao Yen didn’t ask any more questions as they walked through the market. It was nice to have a day off from school. She’d won the last large contest, and had gained the privilege of going to the city for three days. Though she was enjoying Bing Yu’s company, Xiao Yen still felt guilty. She should be at home, with her family, since she saw them so infrequently. Her mother hadn’t wanted her to go when Bing Yu had asked, but Wang Tie-Tie had overruled Fu Be Be, saying it was good for the family to have high connections. As Wang Tie-Tie spoke infrequently now, when she did say something, it carried a lot of weight.

  There seemed to be more people in the streets than Xiao Yen remembered from when she was a child. There were just as many shops crammed together, selling everything from fancy keys to bundles of candles to copper bowls and braziers. Xiao Yen’s favorite shop was the big paper shop on the east side of the market square, which had everything from imported fragrant dragon paper, which was thick and had incense imbedded in it, to flimsy gold paper in the shape of coins that people burned to show respect for their ancestors.

  In addition to the shops, people sold goods on the side of the road. A few of them were merchants. Most of them looked as though they were selling their belongings, whatever they had with them.

  When Xiao Yen had asked Fu Be Be about them, her mother had sniffed and said, “Refugees. From the north. Don’t go near them. They bring bad luck.”

  Master Wei had explained about the treaties the Emperor had signed with the kingdom of Tibet, to the west, and the kingdom of Turk, to the north. Some of the Turk horsemen, also known as the Uighiers, now ignored the treaty, and raided border towns, driving the people who lived there south.

  “Let’s go to the silk shop,” Bing Yu said, taking her friend’s arm.

  The shop was several streets away, down a skinny alley that twisted like a tangled ribbon. Two wide doors draped with undecorated but gaily colored cloth stood open to all. The shop seemed dark after the bright spring sunshine. Bolts of cloth lay everywhere. The center of the shop held a low table, covered with off-white muslin.

  Bing Yu paused in the doorway to take off her shoes, then waited for Xiao Yen to stop gawking and do the same. One clerk brought them slippers to be worn in the store, while a second clerk rushed through a door at the back of the shop.

  The proprietor came running out in a moment. He was a skinny man dressed in purple silk so rich Xiao Yen wanted to rub her cheek against it.

  “Ah, Fang Bing Yu!” he said, bowing deeply over his folded hands. “What an honor it is for you to visit our poor establishment again.” He turned to Xiao Yen and squinted at her, backlit by the light coming in from the street. “And may I have the honor of being introduced?” he asked.

  “This is my friend Fu Xi Wén,” Bing Yu announced. “She also needs a new jacket.”

  Xiao Yen and the proprietor exchanged deep bows.

  “Welcome to my humble shop,” he said, then he peered behind Xiao Yen. “And your gracious mother?” he asked hopefully.

  “She’s not with us this time.”

  “Oh,” said the proprietor, crestfallen.

  Xiao Yen hid her smile behind her hand. The shopkeeper knew Bing Yu had no money, and couldn’t buy anything, even on credit, without her mother. They were just browsing that day,
not buying.

  He made the best of it, replacing his brightest smile with his second best while saying, “Please, come into my shop.” He indicated that they should sit at the low table. He instructed his assistant to show them any cloth they wanted, then excused himself, returning to the back of the shop.

  Bing Yu ordered the assistant around, having him display first one bolt of cloth, then another. She fingered each, and asked Xiao Yen’s opinion on the quality of the silk, the weave of the cloth, the color, and the pattern. Xiao Yen liked tighter woven cloth. Wang Tie-Tie had told her it would last longer because it had more threads. Bing Yu liked the looser woven cloth, because it draped better, and would be cooler in the summer.

  They also disagreed on colors and patterns. Bing Yu’s favorite was a shocking pink, brighter than the petunias in the Garden of Sweet Scents, embroidered with golden cranes. Xiao Yen liked the darker colors and more subtle patterns. Her favorite was a rich blue, the color of the river Quang on a cloudy day, covered with rings of lucky bats done in a lighter blue.

  After the temple bells tolled once to mark the hour of the Sheep, Bing Yu and Xiao Yen left the store. Xiao Yen felt sorry for the poor clerks who would have to put away all the bolts of cloth scattered across the table. She knew better than to say anything to Bing Yu.

  “Where do you want to go now?” Bing Yu asked Xiao Yen as they put on their own shoes.

  “I should return home,” Xiao Yen replied. She felt guilty for being gone so long. Yet it had been nice to be with a friend for the afternoon.

  “I’ll walk you halfway there,” Bing Yu said, linking arms again.

  Xiao Yen pretended to know the people Bing Yu gossiped about as they walked, adding an appropriate, “No,” “Really?” and “She didn’t!”

  When they reached the main road going south, Xiao Yen, instead of turning toward her family’s compound, turned north and said, “I’ll walk with you a little farther.”

  Bing Yu asked, “Why? I thought you needed to get home, and be a proper daughter again.”

  Xiao Yen didn’t pay attention to the teasing tone in her friend’s voice. “I do need to go home. But I want to stop at the well and make an offering to Jing Long first.”

  Bing Yu laughed so loudly that another pair of girls stared at them as they passed by.

  “What’s so funny?” Xiao Yen asked. More passersby stared. Xiao Yen blushed. What had she said?

  “Now I understand why you seem unbalanced!” Bing Yu explained. “Don’t be angry,” she added quickly. “It’s all part of a pattern, see? When I told you about meeting my fiancé, you were shocked, like an old woman. When we went shopping, you liked somber colors. Now, you want to go make an offering to Jing Long. Only old people believe in those stories or make offerings to the city dragon anymore.” Bing Yu paused dramatically.

  Xiao Yen didn’t understand the point Bing Yu was trying to make.

  With an exaggerated sigh, Bing Yu continued. “Don’t you see? You’re a perfect replica of Wang Tie-Tie!”

  Xiao Yen jerked her head back as if Bing Yu had slapped her. How could Bing Yu say that? It sounded like something Fu Be Be or Gan Ou might say.

  “I am not just like Wang Tie-Tie,” Xiao Yen said. Wang Tie-Tie was beautiful and elegant. Fu Be Be had told Xiao Yen often that her broad shoulders made her ugly. Wang Tie-Tie was old and wise. Xiao Yen felt like an infant next to her.

  Bing Yu said, “It might be your fate. Or it might not be. Maybe you could try to be someone else. Like your sister. Or even”—she paused—“like me.”

  Xiao Yen held herself still. Who did she want to be like? Most children were like either their mother or their father. Did she want to be similar to Wang Tie-Tie? At the edge of her mind’s eye she saw another figure approach, someone else that she could be like.

  Bing Yu interrupted Xiao Yen’s thoughts before Xiao Yen could get a good look. “Do you believe in the stories of Jing Long? That it will rise up out of the well and defend Bao Fang if it’s attacked?”

  “Of course,” Xiao Yen replied. Why shouldn’t she believe that? Everyone knew dragons lived in water. The two city dragons, Jing Long and the river dragon, had battles every spring, fighting for dominance. That was why they had thunderstorms. Hadn’t Bing Yu heard them?

  “Fat Fang says there’s no magic at the old well. He said he’s never seen any.”

  Now it was Xiao Yen’s turn to smile. “Master Wei has never taught us to ‘see’ magic. He says it’s possible, but unreliable. I’m not surprised Fat Fang has never seen magic at the well.”

  “So you don’t know for certain if the dragon is there or not?” Bing Yu asked.

  Xiao Yen paused. “I get a feeling something is there. . . .”

  Now it was Bing Yu’s turn to be surprised. “Really?” She breathed out the word as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Let’s go look.” Bing Yu grabbed Xiao Yen’s arm and hurried with her through the crowded street.

  Xiao Yen regretted saying anything. This was worse than Wang Tie-Tie’s birthday party, with her mother asking her to perform.

  The well sat in the center of Bao Fang. The streets from the four main gates ran to it. A waist-high wall of red, rounded bricks surrounded the well. On the south side of the well the water boys plied their trade. There were always a couple around, ready to help someone carry water to their compound for a fee. Some of the boys had regular routes, and came at certain times to fill up their buckets.

  On the north side of the well sat a small wooden altar on a spindly table. Every spring the monks repainted the altar red, and touched up the picture of golden Jing Long rising toward heaven in the center. The altar looked as solid as the bricks, with three flat planks rising out of a base. Below each plank, in the base, three cups had been carved.

  Two of the younger water boys watched Xiao Yen and Bing Yu as they approached. One sniggered when they went around toward the altar. An older man cuffed him.

  Xiao Yen bowed as she approached the altar. From a distance, the altar looked impressive. Up close, she saw it hadn’t been taken care of. The flowers placed on it had dried long ago. The bowls were empty, even the center one that should have had pure water in it for Jing Long’s use, should the dragon choose to manifest. Though the altar was painted every spring, now it was fall, and the paint was faded and chipped.

  After Xiao Yen bowed to the altar, she walked back around to where the water boys stood. Without a word, she handed the old man a coin. He bowed in return, glaring at the younger boys who sat giggling. He gave Xiao Yen a small silver cup, filled to the brim with water. Xiao Yen’s hands grew cold instantly when she wrapped them around the cup.

  She went back to the altar, poured the pure water into the center bowl, and sought the peace she generally felt at a temple. But she couldn’t find her calm. She was too distracted by the noise of the boys getting more water out of the well, the people passing behind her, the calls of a fish merchant. She said a brief prayer for her family, then started walking back home.

  “Wait!” Bing Yu called.

  Xiao Yen stopped. She’d forgotten her friend.

  “Did you see any magic?”

  Xiao Yen had to admit she hadn’t seen or felt anything.

  “That’s because there’s nothing there,” Bing Yu said triumphantly. “And you looked like a silly old woman, pouring water on that altar. The boys will steal the water back and sell it again.”

  Xiao Yen shrugged off her friend’s comments. It was right to show respect, even if Jing Long didn’t live at the bottom of the well. She was certain the dragon existed. Pretty sure.

  Bing Yu peered at her friend for a moment, then walked next to the well. She cleared her throat. For a horrifying moment Xiao Yen thought Bing Yu was going to spit in the well, but instead, she spat next to it.

  When Bing Yu turned to face Xiao Yen again, she broke into loud laughter. She came up to Xiao Yen and put her arm around Xiao Yen’s shoulders. “You looked so much like Wang Tie-Tie just then, so
proper and shocked.” She leaned forward, kissed her friend on the cheek, and said good-bye.

  Before Xiao Yen could go, Bing Yu caught her hands and asked seriously, “If you’re so old now, when will you be young? When will you be young enough to get married and have children?”

  Xiao Yen didn’t know the answer. She rubbed her lucky amulet as she walked back to her family compound, hoping it would show her a sign, but it didn’t reply.

  * * *

  Stark streams of sunlight poured through the trees, striking Xiao Yen’s arms, then sliding off as she moved. Mossy ground gave way under her feet. She pulled breath deep into her belly, letting the dark pine forest smells warm her nostrils. Birdsong came alive over her head.

  Xiao Yen stepped out widely, then had to shift her foot. She’d landed in the wrong pose. Again. She rested in her stance—Spreading Phoenix Feathers—and forced herself to concentrate. Her mind kept going back to Tuo Nu’s powerful elephant, to Udo’s sudden warmth, to her overpowering silence in the days after those men in the courtyard . . . to Vakhtang, growing cold beside her . . . to her dream of him, the second night in a row, staring and silent. She’d tried to approach him, to speak with him, to say that she was sorry, but her words had no sound.

  Xiao Yen exhaled sharply, coming back to the streaming light and dark forest. She did the next step in the form, and the next, concentrating on pushing off the ground, the flow of qi, and her breath. As she warmed up, her movements began to flow. She went from one pose to the next, folding her body as she would fold paper, bringing up one leg, then discovering it and pulling it out, like how she found the legs of a deer from the center of a folded piece and brought them out.