Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon (30 page)

“Maybe.”

The reverse scales were so small that Ping wouldn’t have been able to fit a finger behind them, but she could see that they were all bulging a little.

“Show me what’s behind your scales, Kai.”

“Not showing.” The little dragon looked guilty.

“Please, Kai. I won’t get cross, I promise.”

The little dragon inserted two talons behind the first of his reverse scales. He pulled out a dead caterpillar and a half-eaten jujube.

“Snacks,” said Kai.

From behind the second scale Kai produced the jade pendant that Wang Cao had given Ping.

“I thought I’d lost that!” Ping exclaimed.

Behind the third was a gold earring in the shape of a lotus flower.

“Pretty,” said Kai.

“Did you steal that from the Princess? You’re a bad dragon.”

From behind the fourth scale he produced a dragon talon.

“Father’s,” the little dragon said. “For dreams.”

Ping wasn’t sure what he meant.

“What’s behind the last scale, Kai?” Ping asked.

He pulled out a folded piece of undyed silk cloth.

“What’s that?” Ping asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Did you put it there?”

Kai shook his head.

“Who did then?”

“Rat.”

“Hua?”

The little dragon nodded. “Red bird carried it across Ocean from Father.”

With trembling fingers, Ping took the piece of silk from the little dragon’s talons. It was a message from Danzi. Not a dream riddle, but something she could hold in her hand. She unfolded it. In the growing light, she examined it closely. It was blank. She turned it over. The silk square didn’t have a single mark on it.

Ping’s happiness plummeted like a ripe peach falling from a tree. Just a short while earlier she’d had the power of five. She and her friends had defeated the necromancer using the five elements. She had deciphered Kai’s dream. She had found a message from Danzi. Her heart had soared. Things were finally going right. But her band of companions had disintegrated, and the message from the old dragon had proved to be meaningless. The peach of her happiness splattered and turned to pulp.

Ping didn’t need a magician, a homesick boy or a
dragon to tell her. She knew what she had to do. She had to take Kai to a place where no one would ever find him.

The Emperor would send out guards to scour the Empire for the little dragon. Once word spread, greedy people would be willing to hand Kai over for a reward, or else sell him for his value in gold. No matter where she went, if there were people near, Kai would never be safe. The neglect of incompetent Dragonkeepers and selfish Emperors had combined to reduce the number of dragons to one. People had lost their chance to have dragons live among them.

She and Kai would have to creep through the Empire hiding in forests, travelling at night until they found a deserted place where no one would disturb them. Ping suddenly pictured the desolate hills around Huangling Palace. That was a place where no one chose to live. And the Emperor would never think to look for her there. She and Kai could survive on lizards and birds. She could build a shelter of branches and bundles of grass. The winters would be cold and bleak; they would have to hibernate like animals. It would be a miserable life, but it was the only plan she could think of.

She remembered what Danzi had said in her dream.
Those who do not leave their beds are not always safe
. She had tried to seek safety—on Tai Shan, at Ming Yang Lodge, with her family—but Heaven had always guided her back to her true path. She vowed she would never stray
from it again—if she could just work out which way it lay.

She wanted to get Kai as far away from the Emperor as possible. For the moment she would risk travelling by day and hope that the Emperor and his guards were too busy with Princess Yangxin’s departure to notice her.

“You’ll have to shape-change during the day, Kai,” she said. “What shape do you want to take?”

The little dragon turned into a bucket, then a pot plant and finally settled on a basket.

Ping was weak, but so was Kai. She picked him up. Ping’s chest hurt with every breath. Her left arm hung limp. The wound on the side of her head was bleeding again. She was weak and exhausted. She didn’t know if she could carry her own weight, let alone the dragon’s.

Heavy clouds hung low over the countryside. It was still early, but there was a great deal of activity on the north road near the river. Word had spread about the arrival of the Duke of Yan’s camel caravan, and people were arriving from nearby villages to see the creatures. Stalls had sprung up on the dock to sell food and drinks to the spectators. Ping watched from the cover of the bamboo grove as imperial guards kept back the crowd while bearers finished loading the Princess’s baggage, piling each camel with chests, baskets and bags. There were also two sedan chairs that would carry Princess Yangxin and her ladies, draped with hangings to conceal the occupants.

No one was looking for her yet. As Ping stepped out onto the road, Lady An emerged from one of the tents. Their eyes met, but Lady An looked away and went on with her business.

Ping had no money, no food, not even a water bag. She had lost all her belongings apart from the dragon scale and her mirror. Kai didn’t ask where they were going.

Ping asked a farmer with a covered wagon if he would take her to the next town. He looked suspiciously at the grubby girl with a ripped gown and blood on what remained of her sleeve. He shook his head.

Ping walked slowly. She wished she felt stronger. At any moment Kai could grow tired of being a basket and turn into his proper shape. As soon as the Emperor found out that she had escaped with Kai, a reward would be posted for her capture. Soon everyone would be on the lookout for her.

Every step took them further away from the Emperor. Ping had never imagined that she would be so pleased to leave Liu Che behind her, happy that she would never have to see him again.

The silk square was scrunched up in her hand. She was angry with Danzi for raising her hopes. For a moment she’d thought she would learn something new and valuable from it. She threw the silk square onto the road.

“Keep silk!” cried a voice in Ping’s head.

“What for?” said Ping. “It’s useless.”

A merchant pulling a hand cart passed them. One of the cart’s wheels rolled over the silk square. The cart rumbled on with the silk stuck to the wheel.

Kai suddenly turned into a goat. Ping dropped him. She looked around. Fortunately no one had seen the transformation.

“Must get silk,” Kai said.

He started to run after it.

“No!” Ping grabbed him around his goat neck. He struggled to get away from her.

“You must stay with me, Kai,” Ping said. “Promise me you won’t run off.”

He stopped struggling. “Promise.”

Kai stayed in his goat shape. After no more than twice-ten paces, Ping had to stop to get her breath back. She wondered how long she could walk without food or water.

Then she heard voices shouting. The alarm had been raised already. She glanced back. Imperial guards were dividing into search parties.

Pulling the goat with her, Ping ducked into the cover of the bamboo grove, but it was no safer there. Guards were moving through the bamboo grove as well, fanning out in all directions. Ping crouched behind a thick clump of bamboo.

“It doesn’t matter if the girl is killed!” a voice shouted. “But the dragon mustn’t be harmed. And remember
that it can take on disguises. It could be a bucket, a jar or a soup ladle.”

A guard strode past. He thrust his spear into the canes where Ping and Kai were hiding. The point came to rest less than a hand-width from Kai’s nose. The little dragon didn’t make a sound.

“Good boy, Kai,” she said.

She could hear imperial guards on all sides, slashing down canes with their swords, thrusting their spears into the densest growth. Ping was beginning to think that the road might be safer after all. She was just about to turn towards it, when a hand clamped over her mouth. Ping tried to free herself.

“There is no need to be afraid,” said a gentle voice behind her.

Ping stopped struggling. She recognised the voice. It was Lady An.

“Put this on,” she said taking off the blue and gold cloak and head scarf that she was wearing.

Underneath she was wearing a reddish gown similar to Ping’s. Ping draped the cape around her shoulders and put the head scarf over her hair.

“Tell Kai to turn into something you can carry,” Lady An said.

Kai understood her words. He changed back into a basket.

“More imperial guards are coming,” Lady An said. “Go to Princess Yangxin.”

Before Ping had a chance to say anything, Lady An started to run through the bamboo grove, slipping through the narrow spaces between the canes, darting this way and that like a startled animal. Guards came crashing past. Ignoring the girl wearing the Duke’s colours and carrying a basket, they chased after the running figure.

Ping stepped out into the road again glad that the cloak and head scarf concealed her. Guards were everywhere, searching every wagon, prodding and poking every bucket and jar. She walked towards the sedan chairs and the camels that were loaded with the Princess’s baggage.

She had to stop to rest. She put the basket-shaped dragon down for a moment near a stall selling hot food.

“I’ve found it!”

An imperial guard appeared at the stall. He had discovered a soup ladle with a handle carved in the shape of a dragon. He poked the ladle with his sword but didn’t dare pick it up.

Ping couldn’t see Kai anywhere.

She heard sweet flute notes. Ping looked around trying to find their source. There were people and animals everywhere, but her eyes fell on one little boy. He was about four years old. It was her own half-brother. He looked up at her with a gap-toothed smile. Ping reached out to stroke his hair. She felt a strange
sensation as her hand rested, not on silky hair, but on the rough scales of a dragon.

Ping stared at the boy.

“But you didn’t come to my family’s house. How do you know what Liang looks like?”

“Kai see in Ping’s mind.”

The curtains of one of the sedan chairs were drawn aside.

“Get in, Ping.” It was the Princess. “Where is Kai?”

Ping pointed to the child beside her. Just as Ping and Kai climbed up, the camel drivers flicked their beasts with whips. The camels set off groaning and complaining.

The bearers lifted the sedan chair. They were moving. Ping slumped back in her seat, suddenly overcome by weariness and relief. She looked across at the Princess who looked as cool and calm as ever.

“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said.

Kai was sniffing a basket.

“Would Kai like something to eat?”

“He hasn’t had any food since yesterday and he’s very weak.”

“I heard what my brother did to him,” the Princess said. She opened the basket and the smell of roasted meat wafted out.

“Birdies!” said Kai, popping back into his dragon shape again.

The basket contained a number of roasted quails.

“Eat all you like,” the Princess said.

Kai didn’t need further encouragement. He stuck his head in the basket and ate the quails, bones and all.

“I’m afraid you will have to wait until we stop for the midday meal to eat and change your clothes, Ping.”

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” Ping said. “Once we are away from the river, we’ll make our own way.”

“You won’t get far,” the Princess replied. “You have serious injuries and the weather is worsening. Come all the way to Yan with us.”

“I’ve allowed the promise of safety and comfort to lure me away from my true path too often.”

“You mustn’t punish yourself, Ping. You have saved Kai. Heal yourself before you start on your journey. You haven’t had time to decide where you are going. And, believe me, Yan is not always safe or comfortable.”

“But what about the Duke?”

“You can pose as one of my servants. Kai can be an orphan boy who I have taken on to train as a bodyguard. The Duke will have no interest in either of you.”

Through a gap in the hangings, Ping could see the bamboo canes march by without her having to lift a toe. She was willing to be carried wherever the sedan chair was going.

“You have been so kind to me, Princess Yangxin,” Ping said.

“My brother has treated you and Kai shamefully,” the
Princess said. “If he hadn’t been blinded by his obsession, he would know you are the true Dragonkeeper.”

“You believe I am?”

“I know you are,” the Princess replied. “I have watched you with Kai. I have seen your devotion to him. You are injured, bleeding, but your first thought is for him.”

“The Emperor doesn’t think I’m the true Dragonkeeper.”

“I have to confess that I wasn’t sure at first.”

“What convinced you?”

The Princess pulled something from the sleeve of her gown. It was a strip of bamboo with characters written on it. It was the same strip that Hua had brought to her. Ping looked at the characters. To her surprise she could read almost all of them. It was a prediction.

“In the second year of Emperor Wu a new Dragonkeeper will appear. She will be shunned but she is the true Dragonkeeper.”

Ping stared at the strip. “It says ‘she’.”

“Yes.”

“It could be a mistake.”

The Princess shook her head.

“How did you get this?”

“Your rat brought it to me.

“But I thought you hated rats.”

“I do, but this one was so persistent. After he had brought it to me for the third time, I read it. It is the
last strip of a book. Someone untied it, so it couldn’t be read.”

Ping remembered when she had burst in on the Emperor and Dong Fang Suo when the bamboo books about dragons had first arrived from Chang’an. The Imperial Magician had been retying the strings of a book then. She looked at the strip in her hand. All the books would have been destroyed in the fire. This one strip was all that remained of them. Now there was no doubting it. All of the knowledge about dragons in the Empire was contained in her head.