Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon (31 page)

“You have had your doubts, Ping,” Princess Yangxin said. “Are you now convinced you are the true Dragonkeeper?”

“I know I am,” she said. “I didn’t need a bamboo book to tell me. In my heart, I knew.”

She stroked Kai’s rough scales. “I just didn’t believe I could do the job properly.”

Ping didn’t know whether Danzi had withheld knowledge from her on purpose, or whether the old dragon had just forgotten what he was supposed to tell her. It didn’t matter. No set of rules could help her. She had to teach herself. And Danzi trusted her to do that. She was the last Dragonkeeper, that’s what he’d said. With that he had actually told her all she needed to know. She had to end dragons’ reliance on people. She had to teach Kai how to take care of himself. Accepting the imperial seal had been a mistake. She had allowed her
affection for the Emperor to cloud her judgment. She wasn’t a slave girl, but she wasn’t an imperial courtier either. She was the Dragonkeeper. The last one. She had to find a place where Kai could live in freedom.

“Liu Che said there was nothing that prophesised a female Dragonkeeper,” Ping said. “He lied to me.”

The Princess’s eyes filled with tears. “His true character is good and honest. I pray that it is not lost forever.”

“Aren’t you angry that he is sending you back to Yan?” Ping asked.

The Princess shook her head. “I begged the Duke to take me back.”

Ping turned to the Princess in surprise.

“The Duke was ready to enlist the barbarians beyond the Great Wall and prepare to wage war on the Empire. Liu Che ignored this threat. You were right, Ping. My brother is obsessed with his search for immortality.”

“But he’s going back to Chang’an now, isn’t he? The Grand Counsellor will bring him to his senses.”

The Princess shook her head sadly.

“He is not going to Chang’an. He plans to sail to the source of the Yellow River where he has heard the peaches of immortality grow. The Empire is weak already, war would bring it to its knees. It is within my power to prevent this from happening. The Duke was fond of me before my indiscretion.”

The sedan chair slowed down and stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Ping said anxiously.

The hangings were pulled aside and Lady An stepped in. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead.

“One of the boxes has come loose. The camel drivers are securing it.”

“You lost your pursuers?” the Princess asked.

Lady An smiled. “They are chasing a deer.”

Urgent flute notes rang out. “Kai need to pee.”

“No, Kai,” said Ping anxiously. “You can’t.” She remembered what had happened the last time they were travelling and Kai had wanted to pee.

“Must go now!”

Ping couldn’t bear the thought of the Princess’s sedan chair flooded with foul-smelling dragon urine.

“We won’t be long,” she said to the Princess.

Princess Yangxin looked puzzled. “But the camels will start moving again at any moment. We must keep up with them.”

“Quick, Kai,” Ping said. “Take on the shape of Liang.”

The little dragon shook his head. “Only pee in dragon shape.”

Kai jumped out of the sedan chair. Ping followed him. They had travelled no more than two or three
li
. The road was still crowded with people who had come to see the camel caravan from Yan. Ping held out her cloak to hide the dragon.

“Hurry up!” she said.

“Won’t come,” Kai said sadly.

The Princess peeped through the curtains to see what the delay was.

“Trying,” said Kai.

“Your Majesty,” Ping said. “Do you have a wine jar?”

The Princess nodded. She handed Ping a lovely alabaster wine jar. Ping tipped the jar and let the wine dribble out onto the road. The trickling sound did the trick.

“Peeing,” said Kai triumphantly.

A pool of dark green dragon urine formed on the road. Ping looked around anxiously, sure that the awful smell would attract attention. The camel drivers called out in a strange language. The camels answered with their grunting, groaning cry and set off again.

“Hurry up!”

“Not finished.”

The bearers picked up the sedan chair.

There was a sudden gust of icy wind. Leaves swirled in the air. Something else was blown along by the wind. It fluttered and turned, billowing in the breeze like a miniature sail on a boat. It fluttered down and settled on a tuft of grass poking up between two stone slabs. It was the silk square. The dragon repositioned himself. A new stream of urine splashed onto the tuft of grass, soaking the silk square.

“Wet,” said Kai cheerfully.

Ping peered at the silk. It was changing. Faint marks were appearing on it. Despite the terrible smell, she picked up the silk by one corner. She could see pale characters on it. The marks were getting darker.

The sedan chair had moved ahead. Ping picked up Kai and tried to catch up with it. Every step sent pain shooting through her body. The bearers increased their pace. The Princess held back the curtains. With a huge effort, Ping managed to lift the little dragon into the sedan chair. She ran, despite the pain, but she couldn’t climb up herself. Her last
shu
of energy had been used up.

Snowflakes stared to fall. The clouds that had been threatening for over a week decided to release their burden. Princess Yangxin reached out and took Ping’s outstretched hand. She pulled Ping inside. The Princess had more strength than Ping had ever imagined.

Ping collapsed on the floor gasping with pain and exhaustion. She lifted herself onto the seat next to the Princess and stared at the dripping silk, which was still clutched in her hand. The marks were now dark brown. The silk square was covered with lines and curves. There were some characters too, written scratchily with a shaky hand. Ping could read many of them. They were the names of roads, rivers and a mountain.

“What do these other two characters say?” she asked.

The Princess held a fold of her head scarf over her
nose and looked at the silk. “Kun-lun,” she answered. “The Kun-lun Mountains. It’s a map.”

Kai was perched on the seat between her and the Princess, making high and happy flute notes.

“Message from Father,” he said.

“Yes,” said Ping. “It’s a message from Danzi. Hidden behind your reverse scale. Now I know where our path lies.”

“Not just yet though,” the Princess said. “Allow yourself some time to rest and recover.”

The snow was falling heavily. The countryside had turned white.

“The Kun-lun Mountains are impassable in winter. You must spend the winter months in Yan.”

“Travel with Prissy,” Kai said, happily snuffling about in the basket to see if there was any food he had missed.

It took Ping a moment to work out who Kai meant.

The little dragon looked up at the Princess. “Prissy play ball?”

“No, Kai!” Ping exclaimed.

“Prissy tell story?”

“No! You’ll have to sit still and behave yourself all the way to Yan.”

Kai belched.

“Okay.”

He walked round in a circle in the space between Ping and the Princess. Finally, he settled down. He coiled his
scaly body into a tight knot with his nose under his back paws and his tail pulled up through the middle.

The Princess smiled. So did Ping. She settled back to enjoy the peace and quiet. She knew it wouldn’t last long.

The Chinese words in this book are written in
pinyin
which is the official way of writing the sound of Chinese characters using the English alphabet. These words aren’t always pronounced the way you might think. Here is a guide to help you pronounce them correctly.

Once again I am indebted to all those researchers who have written about the Han Dynasty and scholars who have translated ancient Chinese books, and made all their knowledge available to people like me. There is a full bibliography on my website at http://home.iprimus. com.au/carolew/

I’d like to make special mention of Marinus Willem de Visser, to whom I have dedicated this book. He was a Dutch academic who studied Chinese and Japanese religion and folklore—and dragons. His book
The Dragon in China and Japan
, published in 1913, contains translations of dragon mythology from ancient Chinese works and is the source of most of my knowledge of Chinese dragons.

I would also like to thank my husband, John, and my daughter, Lili, for their continual support, love and friendship.

Special thanks to everyone at black dog books, especially Alison Arnold and Andrew Kelly, for their unflagging enthusiasm and dedication in the creation of this book.

Carole Wilkinson’s Dragonkeeper series is loved by readers all over the world and books in the series have won both literary and children’s choice awards. Carole embarked on her writing career at the age of 40, happily leaving behind her previous employment as a laboratory technician in jobs involving blood and brains. She has been making up for lost time ever since. She has a fascination with dragons and is interested in the history of everything. Her books are a combination of meticulous research and imagination.
Carole’s website is
carolewilkinson.com.au