Paper Mage

by Leah R. Cutter

  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.

  * * *

  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, not 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.

  What else could she fold though? That was what she’d prepared. She needed the perfect creature, particularly after Master Djong had suggested she was a charity case. She studied the official. Maybe if she made a creature that resembled him, he would be impressed. She watched the quick darting way he moved his hands, how he always moved his head and shoulders together, how his wet eyes were alive, searching the corners of the courtyard for hidden treasure. Then he moistened his lips with just the tip of his tongue, suggesting . . .

  A tail.

  Xiao Yen knew what she wanted to fold: a scorpion—sly, tricky, noxious—an appropriate representation of the official. It was also a difficult creature to fold. The tail was complicated. She considered for another moment. If her scorpion grew larger than normal size, that would be okay. All the better to even the odds with the other full-size creatures she was sure Fat Fang and Long Yen were folding. A scorpion could be mean, take all her anger and use it.

  Finally Master Wei announced the start of the contest. Xiao Yen, Fat Fang, and Long Yen rose and went to their spots in the courtyard. When they were in place, they bowed to each other, then sat down together. Xiao Yen picked up the paper before her and prayed to Zhang Gua Lao, the immortal, the patron saint of paper folding. She closed her eyes and breathed the hot courtyard air. The dust and the clay smell baked her bones, her resolution. It was the ideal scent for a scorpion. She opened her eyes, touched her amulet with both hands, just the fingertips, to bring luck. Then she started folding.

  This was the first time Master Wei had let the students do battle outdoors, with large creatures. Normally, they did mock battles or contests, with one seeking a prize while the other guarded, with small creatures like birds or dogs or snakes. This “battle” had been at the insistence of the official, who’d been unimpressed with the earlier presentations. He appreciated strategy, but he wanted to see blood. Fat Fang already had a position when he left the school. He’d see to the defenses of Bao Fang, protecting all his “children,” as he called the townspeople. Both Long Yen and Xiao Yen could use a prominent post when they left the school, so Master Wei had agreed to this demonstration.

  Master Wei always judged the students on how gracefully they folded, as well as the success of their creation once it was animated. Xiao Yen suspected that Master Djong wouldn’t know graceful folding from ungraceful, so she didn’t worry about the fine points like keeping her elbows always pointed in one of the three directions of Heaven, or finishing each long fold by drawing out her hand. Instead, she concentrated on the tricky figure itself.

  More than once, Xiao Yen felt her shoulders folding themselves up around her ears and had to force herself to relax. Sweat trickled down her neck and her sides. Occasionally, she heard the faint tinkling of the bells under the eaves of the Hall of Reception. The wind stirred the surrounding trees as well, a quiet rustling, like pieces of paper being shuffled.

  Xiao Yen finished pulling out the second set of four legs, pursing her lips in disappointment. They were longer than the first four. Her creature was lopsided. She should start over again, but she had no time.

  Xiao Yen had just finished the front pinchers, trying to rectify the different sizes with extra folds, when she heard faint applause. She sneaked a quick glance. A large black bear growled at a towering stag. Xiao Yen smiled and looked back to her creation. Though her scorpion was small, and maybe a little lopsided, at least she hadn’t folded the same thing as one of the other students. Xiao Yen blessed her luck, touching her amulet once more, then focused on her creation, blocking out everything else in the courtyard.

  Xiao Yen rolled the tail up in one smooth motion. It didn’t bend at the natural creases, so she spent time she didn’t have pulling, pinching, and prodding the tail into shape. By the time she finished, it looked much better, but the boys had started their combat. The stag had claw marks down its sweating sides. It circled the bear, who had an antler prong—like the stub of a wooden knife—stuck in its chest.

  Xiao Yen placed her scorpion in front of her, wiped the sweat from her brow, then closed her eyes. She focused her anger and concentrated on impressing her creation with one thing: winning.

  When she opened her eyes, her scorpion had already run into the center of the courtyard. It had grown to the size of a small dog, and fearless. It pinched the bear’s hind legs, then darted toward the deer as the bear reached out with a huge paw to swipe at the annoyance. Again and again, it stung or pinched the two larger animals. They attacked each other in frustration, unable to reach the fast-moving scorpion. The stag kept going up on its hind legs and using its sharp front hooves to batter the bear, which slashed and clawed with deadly force at the stag. The scorpion scooted in, pinching higher and higher, until it severed a tendon in the back of the stag’s leg.

  The stag crumpled. The scorpion came in and stung the stag’s nose, while the bear stomped down with all its weight, breaking the stag’s neck.

  Xiao Yen felt the pit of her stomach fall. The stag had been so beautiful, its coat like soft down. It had been a terrible thing to kill it wantonly, even if it was only a created thing, infused with essence, without a soul. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She bit her tongue and looked at Master Wei. He sat with an impassive face. His right hand tightened sporadically into a fist. Xiao Yen gulped. She didn’t want to face the wrath of her master.

  Just then he looked at her. He didn’t smile at her, but there was a broadening of his mouth, the slightest loosening between his eyes that only the most perceptive of observers would notice. He wasn’t angry with her. He bowed his head slightly, then returned his attention to the battle.

  Necessity drove them all, from the fighting beasts to the people who created this combat. The scorpion had severed tendons in two of the bear’s legs, making it impossible for it to stay either upright or up on four paws. Then it aimed its front claws for the neck, stinging the bear’s face, keeping its sharp teeth to the side. Soon, it was over, and the scorpion scrambled up onto the bear’s chest, waving its stinger like a flag in a parade. Then it scrambled off. Xiao Yen’s heart stopped for a moment, fearing that it would run up and sting Master Djong. Instead, it ran out the gate, seeking its way into the wild.

  Xiao Yen and the other students picked up the delicate remains of the original paper creatures they’d folded and carried them to a waiting brazier set just outside the canopy. Long Yen went first, as his was the first creature to fall. Xiao Yen admired the beautiful lines of his stag’s chest, its proud antlers. She wanted to tell Long Yen it had been a fine creature as he consigned it to the flames. As had been Fat Fang’s bear, beautifully rendered, standing on its rear legs, its front paws ready to attack. Then she gave her little lopsided scorpion to the flames.

  She didn’t mark the center of her forehead with her creation’s ashes. She felt no pride in this victory. Her creature had just been meaner than the other two, not more graceful or beautiful. She’d been angrier, and luckier. She sighed, then turned, walked back to the dais, and knelt in front of it. She bowed low, touching her forehead to the ground nine times. Master Wei spoke loud words of praise for her. Xiao Yen kept her attention on the official. He returned her gaze, rubbing his chin with one hand, not saying anything.

  Xiao Yen thanked her master with the standard phrases, then went off with the boys to eat the feast that had been prepared for the official. For once, Fat Fang didn’t tease her and Long Yen didn’t make her walk behind them. They walked shoulder to shoulder with her. The
y weren’t angry with her for winning. Maybe they understood how hollow the victory was.

  Xiao Yen wanted to be happy. She’d won. She’d get to go home the next day as a reward. But her heart stayed beneath the soles of her feet.

  The next morning, just before Xiao Yen left for Bao Fang, a messenger arrived at the school. He carried a large bag of gold, twice as big as the bags Fat Fang and Long Yen had received. Xiao Yen refused to touch it, instead directing the messenger to take it to Wang Tie-Tie.

  Let her family enjoy it. She couldn’t.

  “Little Bear! You’re so strong!” Xiao Yen exclaimed as she reached the end of the courtyard with her nephew gripping her fingers. He still wobbled when he moved, but he also pulled himself up on tables. Soon he’d be walking without help. He ignored the shrieks of the other children chasing a ball in the far corner and concentrated on going forward. He pulled his mouth up and led with his chin, like a scholar deep in thought.

  “He’s so serious,” Xiao Yen commented to Gan Ou over her shoulder.

  “He’s going to be a fine man when he grows up,” Gan Ou replied. “Responsible and full of xiao, always ready to do his duty, eh?”

  Ling-Ling and Han Wanju, two of Xiao Yen’s cousins, politely agreed that he’d honor his parents as a good son should.

  “Give him to his nurse,” Gan Ou said as Xiao Yen turned around with her nephew, who seemed determined to walk all the way back without pause. “Come here and have your tea with us.”

  Reluctantly, Xiao Yen handed the boy to his nurse standing on the side of the courtyard. A part of her wanted to stay and play with the other children, rather than join her sister and her cousins. As always. Xiao Yen hid her smile at the thought.

  She walked back to the stairs where the other women sat. Bright pink, green, and yellow unembroidered silk pillows lay on the steps. Gan Ou sat in the middle, on the top step, her legs curved under her. Her face had slimmed since the end of her last pregnancy, making her nose and chin seem pointed. Her smile glittered with secrets. She wore a bright gold jacket with fine white bells embroidered around the cuffs and down the front placard.