Authors: Carole Wilkinson
“So where are we going?” Jun asked.
“To the mountains,” Ping replied.
Jun scanned the horizon. “There’s a lot of them.”
Ping sighed. “We’ll have to hope that the white dragon finds us again.”
“Look,” said Kai. He pointed a talon into the morning mist.
Ping could make out what she thought was a large grey rock in a meadow. Then she saw the rock move. They edged closer. It wasn’t a rock, or at least not all of it was. It was a person sitting on a rock. The person
stood up. Ping couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Lao Longzi. He leaned heavily on his walking stick as he shuffled towards them.
“I will take you to Long Gao Yuan,” the old man whispered. “If Danzi chose you as his Dragonkeeper that is all the recommendation I need.”
Lao Longzi pointed his stick away from the road into the hills to the north-west. The old man didn’t look like he could take five steps on level ground, let alone walk many
li
over mountains.
He looked at Jun. “Is the young man accompanying us?” he asked.
Ping heard the question in her mind. “Yes,” she replied.
“That is good,” he said.
Lao Longzi lifted one foot an inch off the ground and moved it forward three inches. Then he lifted his other foot. It was going to be a long, slow journey.
“If we walk around the lakes shore
it will be quicker,” Kai said.
Lao Longzi shook his head.
“Too open,” he said.
“We must stay in the hills.”
Ping was convinced that Lao Longzi would collapse from exhaustion before he made it to the foot of the first hill, let alone to its top. But the old man had more strength than anyone expected. He moved slowly but steadily, like an ancient tortoise.
As he laboriously climbed the hill, he didn’t speak. Kai ran ahead and back endlessly. Ping thought that she would burst with impatience.
Jun touched her arm gently. “Not much further now,” he said. “The journey will take its own time.”
Ping had lost interest in the journey. The hills all looked the same. Even the fact that they were covered with mossy grass, dotted with small flowers and watered by streams didn’t please her. Reaching their destination was all that mattered now. Lao Longzi was silent during the day as he needed all his energy for walking, but in the evening, he spoke a little.
The next day was the same, and the next. Each evening, they gleaned a little more information from the old man, word by whispered word. Lao Longzi preferred to speak aloud as a courtesy to Jun, even though it took more energy. His words were like rare gems. Ping turned each one of them over and over in her mind to make sure she hadn’t missed any of its meaning. She had never expected to have the privilege of speaking to someone else who had been Danzi’s Dragonkeeper.
“There were many dragon hunters in those distant days,” the old man said. “They searched all over the Empire for dragons. That’s why some dragons sought out a remote mountain hideout.”
He paused for several minutes while he collected his thoughts and the breath for further speech. “I was Long Danzi’s keeper for more than 70 years.”
Ping looked at the old man. He must have been well over 100 years old.
“Some of that time we spent on Dragon Plateau.” The corners of his mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles. “But Danzi was an adventurous dragon. Life on
the plateau didn’t suit his wandering spirit. He left to explore the world. I was happy to go with him.”
Kai sat close to Lao Longzi, barely breathing he was listening so intently.
“Tell me something about Father,” Kai said.
The old man thought for a moment.
“He didn’t like hibernating,” Lao Longzi said. “He would try to sleep but he would wake often, get out of the pond and talk to me and the other Dragonkeepers. He liked to walk in the snow and sometimes he would make a mound of snow and then form it into a shape—a rabbit, a fish, an eagle.”
Kai sat in silence. Ping knew that he was repeating the story in his head, so that he would remember every word.
Ping realised that being the keeper of a wild dragon was very different to caring for the imperial dragons. Being an Imperial Dragonkeeper had been a bad experience for Ping, but in the old days it had been different. In an imperial palace, a Dragonkeeper could marry and have a family. In fact, marriage was encouraged, in the hope that more Dragonkeepers would be born. Dragons needed many keepers over their long lives. It was a safe and secure profession.
Caring for a dragon in the wild made for an exciting life, but it was a task for an unmarried man. It was a dangerous job. Often Dragonkeepers died while caring for their dragon charges—and not all of them died of old
age. Some died in mountain accidents, others were the victims of dragon hunters.
One evening, Lao Longzi told them why he’d had to give up his treasured position as Danzi’s keeper.
“My ears failed me,” he said. Ping felt that his sadness had seeped into his bones. “Dragons cannot hear well. Hunters can creep up on them when they are sleeping. Keen hearing is essential for a Dragonkeeper in the wild. Danzi had to look for a younger man.”
Ping remembered Wang Cao, the herbalist from Chang’an, and wondered if he had been Danzi’s next Dragonkeeper.
Day after day they made their way at tortoise speed. As they climbed each hill, they saw before them endless, similar hills. Though they occasionally startled a herd of wild goats or a fox, they never saw another person.
“How many dragons were there on the plateau?” Kai asked.
“Many,” the old man replied.
Ping could feel Kai’s excitement.
“We saw one,” he told him. “A white one. Do you think there will be more on Dragon Plateau?”
Lao Longzi nodded. “I expect to meet some old friends there.”
“Are there any young ones?” Kai asked.
“When I was there, there were none, but two dragons had mated. There should be young by now.”
“Kai can play with them.” He ran ahead, his happy tinkling sounds filling the air. He could barely contain his excitement.
Ping hadn’t dared to think that more than one dragon had survived in the wild. She had only ever dealt with dragons one at a time. Her feelings were confused. It was right that Kai should live with others of his kind, but she wasn’t sure how she would fit into Kai’s new life. If he had dragons to teach him, what would her role be?
Lao Longzi had questions too. He wanted to know what had happened to Danzi, and so Ping told him the story of their journey.
At midmorning the following day, they climbed another mossy rounded hill, identical to the many they had already climbed. But from the top of this one there was a different view. A huge lake lay before them. It stretched beyond the horizon like an inland sea. The hill sloped down towards the edge of the lake like a mossy carpet. More hills surrounded the lake to the north and south, but to the west, the tips of snow-capped mountains were visible on the horizon. Lao Longzi pointed a trembling finger towards the mountains.
“Long Gao Yuan,” he breathed.
“The lake must be nearly 150
li
wide,” said Jun as he stared at the vast expanse of water.
“If we walk around the lake’s shore it will be quicker,” Kai said.
Lao Longzi shook his head. “Too open,” he said. “We must stay in the hills.”
Kai asked Lao Longzi endless questions about Danzi and the other dragons at Long Gao Yuan. Each of the old man’s answers was long and slow.
Jun couldn’t hear any of the conversations between the dragon and Lao Longzi.
“Now I know what it’s like to be deaf,” Jun said.
Ping tried to remember to speak aloud so that he knew what she was saying to the old man and Kai, but she sometimes forgot.
When Kai was questioning Lao Longzi, Ping talked to Jun. She enjoyed having a conversation with another person that wasn’t constantly interrupted by dragon sounds. Jun told her about his childhood. His stories of how he had coped with seven sisters made her laugh.
Ping was as impatient as Kai to get to their destination. It had already taken them two weeks to travel a distance that they could have crossed in a few days without Lao Longzi. Creeping through the hills with him would take another week at least.
“Does your second sight tell you anything about Dragon Plateau?” Ping asked. “Can you tell how many dragons are living there?”
A long ragged sigh escaped from the old man.
“Second sight usually only comes to a Dragonkeeper when he has a dragon in his care. When Danzi and I parted, my second sight vanished.”
He turned his watery eyes to Ping. “Does your second sight tell you anything?”
Ping shook her head.
“This is a strange life you have chosen,” Lao Longzi said.
“I didn’t choose it,” Ping replied. “It chose me.”
He surveyed the bleak landscape. “Do you have any regrets?”
“None.”
Ping had one more question for Lao Longzi, though she hesitated before asking it.
“Did you foresee that you would live a lonely life after Danzi left you?”
The old man nodded slowly. “Yes, but I wouldn’t swap my years with Danzi for a more companionable old age.”
He glanced over to where Jun was playing with Kai.
“I have never known a Dragonkeeper to have a companion,” he said.
Ping didn’t understand what he meant at first. “You mean Jun?”
The old man nodded.
“He isn’t my companion,” Ping said, feeling suddenly hot. “He insisted on coming. His family feel that they have to repay a debt. They sent him to assist me. It wasn’t my idea.”
“Kai likes him,” the old man said. “There is no reason why a Dragonkeeper should be lonely.”
“I’ve not been lonely,” Ping protested. “I’ve had Danzi and Kai to keep me company.”
Lao Longzi made no further comment.
The days were long, daylight lasting well into the evening. The old man knew that they were eager to reach the dragon haven. Though he couldn’t increase his walking speed, he was willing to walk from sunrise until sunset.
Eventually they reached the foothills of the mountains to the west of the lake. Once again their eyes followed Lao Longzi’s tremulous finger as it pointed to a cleft in the mountain range.
“We must pass between those two peaks,” he told them.
Kai and Jun had managed to catch two hares during the day and they were all able to eat their fill—even Kai.
“What is it like, Dragon Plateau?” Kai asked.
It was a question that Kai had asked many times, but Lao Longzi didn’t seem to tire of answering it. And each time there was a little bit more information.
“I am one of only a few humans to see it,” he said proudly. “It is a grassy plateau hidden high in the mountain peaks, protected from the icy winds. A mountain stream runs through it.”
It sounded just as Ping had imagined Long Gao Yuan.
“It can only be reached by climbing the Serpent’s Tail,” Lao Longzi continued.
“What’s that?” Kai asked.
“You will see.”
“Were you welcome there?” Ping asked.
“Yes, all true Dragonkeepers are welcome at Long Gao Yuan. Dragons don’t need keepers in the wild, but the bond between a Dragonkeeper and his dragon is strong. All those dragons who had keepers wanted them to stay.”
“How many Dragonkeepers were there on the plateau?”
“Only four.” The old man made a strange gurgling sound in his throat. It was a chuckle. “One dragon had a young Dragonkeeper—a carefree, adventurous young man, fond of jokes and pranks.”
Ping wanted more information, but it was clear that the old man wasn’t going to say anything else. Every word drained a little more of his precious energy.
The next morning, Ping was the first to wake. The sun hadn’t yet warmed the earth and the cold of the mountain night was still all around them. Something had woken her. Not a sound, not a movement. She tried to describe the sensation to herself as she snuggled into her bearskin, but she found it difficult. It was as if something that had been moving had stopped. She got up and relit their fire. Kai woke and
so did Jun. They walked off together to pee, as they did each morning. Lao Longzi didn’t stir and all of a sudden Ping knew what had stopped. It was Lao Longzi’s heart.
She got up and went over to the old man’s body. His wrinkled face looked as if it had been carved from grey rock. His skin was as cold as snow.
Ping felt a bond with the old man, as if she had known him for many years rather than just two weeks. He was the only other true Dragonkeeper she had met. And he had spent a long time at Danzi’s side, much longer than she had.
When Kai and Jun came back and saw her standing over the old man’s body, they guessed what had happened. Kai didn’t say anything but he made mournful sounds. Ping’s eyes filled with tears. Lao Longzi had lived a long life, but since his happy time with Danzi, he had spent many years alone. Shunned by the people of the Tinkling Village, he had clung to life, waiting for news of his dragon. He had met Kai and knew that Danzi would live on in him. Now he could finally die in peace.
Ping had been looking forward to spending many long afternoons with Lao Longzi, learning about his life as a Dragonkeeper. But the old man had never spoken about what he would do when they got to Long Gao Yuan. She thought that he had known he would never reach it.
“If only he’d got as far as Dragon Plateau,” Jun said. “We could have buried him there.”
“He’s in sight of Long Gao Yuan at least,” Ping said.
She arranged his cold, twiggy hands on his chest and smoothed his white hair. Kai pulled out one of his scales and Ping placed it inside the old man’s robes. They gently covered his body with stones where he lay, and stood for a few moments in silence.
“Come,” Jun said, taking Ping’s arm. “We still have a long way to go.”
Their progress was quicker now and they reached the cleft the next day. It was no more than a narrow crack in the mountains. If Lao Longzi hadn’t pointed it out to them, they would never have found it.
“I hope we can find the Serpent’s Tail,” Ping said.