Everything Under the Sky (40 page)

I knew it. I hadn't gone crazy after all. The air was filled with methane, and we had to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Here's another hexagram!” my niece then exclaimed. “So close?” Lao Jiang asked in disbelief.

“Starting at the door and going in a straight line, first there's the one Biao found and then, about six feet farther on, this one that Fernanda just found,” I explained, kneeling down by the engraving to examine it. All I actually did was touch it to ensure she hadn't made a mistake. It was Master Red who examined it carefully to see which hexagram it was.

“Sheng,” he pronounced after studying it with his hands, “‘Pushing Upward.’ It refers to a tree pushing up through the earth as it grows. In reality, it speaks of rising to success from a lowly position thanks to personal effort and determination. The judgment says you must set to work and not be afraid, because a departure to the south brings good fortune.”

“Departure to the south?” Lao Jiang repeated. “We should head south from here?”

“I'd say so.”

“How are we going to know which way is south?” I asked as I tried to map out the mausoleum in my head. The door we'd come through into that poisonous room was to the north, because it was in front of the iron rungs we climbed down at the back of the funeral palace. Going south, then, meant going farther into the darkness ahead, retracing the route we'd taken upstairs, walking into the depths of Mount Li.

“I can locate the eight cardinal points on my
luo p'an,
madame, because they're carved into the wood. Then, if I touch the needle lightly, I can see where it's pointing.”

What would we have done without brilliant Master Red? I congratulated myself for having had the marvelous idea to ask the abbot to provide us with a monk who was an expert in the Chinese sciences. We were finally in a position to begin moving. The problem was, how would we know the way back? Just as I'd emptied the crossbows in the throne room, I wanted to mark the floor with something so that on our way back we'd simply have to follow the trail to the door, but I couldn't think clearly. I was terribly dizzy and beginning to feel a slight headache, which scared me a little.

“Hurry and find the south, Master Red Jade,” the antiquarian ordered. What did I have in my bag that I could use … ? The precious stones! That lovely handful of green turquoise I'd taken off the altar before following Lao Jiang. They were roughly the size of a chickpea and would be hard to find in the dark, but I didn't have anything else. As Master Red continued his calculations, I rummaged deep in my bag and found the stones, moving them into my jacket pockets. Since I didn't dare drop the first one because of the noise it would make, I discreetly knelt down and set it softly on the floor. Fairy tales had to be good for something. After all, didn't Hansel and Gretel leave a trail of bread crumbs in the forest so they could find their way home?

After a while Master Red finally said, “Hold on to my tunic and form a line. I'll lead the way.”

It seemed ridiculous to walk like that, everyone holding hands (except when I let go to set a turquoise on the floor), but we were all so dizzy and afraid that no one made a single joke, not even when Master Red stopped and we all bumped into one another. Here was yet more proof that the effects of the gas were getting worse. Why hadn't I insisted we go back to the throne room in the funeral palace? I felt guilty, but I hadn't wanted to cause a panic, and I wasn't sure there really was methane.

“Three yin lines, one yang, another yin, and another yang,” Master Red was saying. “Therefore, the hexagram is Chin, ‘Progress.’ ”

“That means we're on the right track,” I commented, trying to sound optimistic.

“The sun rises rapidly above the earth,” our scholar explained. “The judgment for ‘Progress’ says that the powerful prince is honored with horses in large numbers. I'd say this sign means we should run, gallop as quickly as horses to the next hexagram.”

“But do we keep going south?” I asked. The pain in my head was becoming more severe, and every time I bent over to set a turquoise down, it felt as if I left a piece of my brain on the floor as well.

“Yes, madame. Given that the hexagram doesn't mention another direction, we should keep going south. Hold on to one another again, and follow me as quickly as you can.”

“Are you sure you feel all right, Master Red Jade?” I asked as I grasped the children's frozen hands. If he became disoriented or lost consciousness, the rest of us were dead.

“Yes, madame. I'm just fine.”

“I'm scared, Auntie,” my niece whimpered. “And my head hurts.”

“Nonsense!” Lao Jiang exclaimed harshly. “You'll be fine as soon as we get out of here. It's just the darkness.”

“I don't feel well either,
tai-tai,
” Biao murmured. “Silence!” the antiquarian ordered.

He knew. Lao Jiang knew we were in a methane trap. He'd come to that conclusion when I had, and he'd decided on behalf of everyone that it was a risk we had to take. He probably thought no one else realized what was happening.

“Walk quickly, children,” I said, pushing Biao's shoulder and pulling Fernanda's cold hand.

What was going on in the antiquarian's head? Something had happened to him, and I needed to know what. I set another turquoise on the floor, and as I stood up, struggling to keep my balance, I collided with Fernanda as she bent over to speak with me in private.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, reaching up to rub my head where her chin had nearly pierced my skull.

“Ouch!” she said at the same time.

“What's wrong with you two?” Lao Jiang grumbled. “Nothing. Keep walking,” I replied churlishly.

“Why do you keep letting go of my hand and bending down?” Fernanda whispered in my ear.

“Because I'm leaving a trail of crumbs, like Hansel and Gretel.”

I don't know whether she believed me or thought I'd gone stark raving mad, but she didn't say a word, just held on tightly to my hand, and we kept going. After that, every time I let go of her hand and then took it again, her fingers squeezed mine affectionately, as if approving of my actions. The girl was an absolute pearl—an uncultured pearl, perhaps, but a pearl nonetheless.

“Another hexagram,” Master Red announced. “Let me see which one it is.”

We all remained quiet, waiting.

“K'un, ‘The Receptive.’ This is a complicated sign and usually interpreted in conjunction with the previous one, Ch'ien, ‘The Creative.’ They're like yin and yang.”

“Get to the point, Master Red Jade,” the antiquarian commanded.

“If we limit ourselves to the judgment,” he said somewhat hurriedly, “‘The Receptive’ implies that the nobleman who wants to lead may go astray but will be successful if he follows others with the perseverance of a mare, an animal that combines the strength and swiftness of a horse with the gentleness and devotion of the feminine.”

“That's it?” Lao Jiang snarled. “We're to go from the swiftness of a horse to that of a mare? So this hexagram is just another reminder that we should continue south at full speed.”

“No, not to the south now,” Master Red said. “The judgment says, ‘It is favorable to find friends in the west and south, / To forgo friends in the east and north.’ ”

“Why can't these hexagrams be a little clearer?” my niece complained.

“Because that's not their purpose, Fernanda,” I explained. “It's actually an ancient text that's used by oracles.”

“Very well then, we're to avoid the east and the north, which is where we came from,” Lao Jiang summarized. “We're to head south and west, is that it? So let's head southwest.”

“No, Da Teh, that's not the way to interpret it. When the
I Ching
wants to propose a direction, it clearly indicates it. If it wanted us to go southwest, it would have said so. However, it speaks of the south and the west separately. Since we came from the south, the direction it's indicating is the west. Of the sixty-four hexagrams in the
I Ching,
K'un, ‘The Receptive,’ is the only one that mentions the west. Whoever chose these hexagrams had only K'un to indicate that direction.”

“If you say so, Master Red Jade. Take us west, then. Let's get on with it.”

“Yes, Da Teh.”

The next hexagram we found was Pi, “Holding Together,” which said we should stay together and run, because “Those who are uncertain gradually join. / Whoever come too late / Meets with misfortune.” It was yet another warning that time was of the essence. We didn't need to be reminded; Lao Jiang and I, knowing what we were dealing with, encouraged the group to hurry. Continuing in a straight line west, we came upon the sixth hexagram, Chien, “Obstruction,” which may have indicated the presence of an obstacle in our path, though we didn't run across anything. That was when Biao vomited. An instant later so did Fernanda. I was about to be the third, because the pain in my head was excruciating. I couldn't believe that Lao Jiang and Master Red weren't affected by the methane. I was therefore not surprised when the antiquarian suddenly fell to the floor.

We heard a tremendous thud, and Biao, who'd been holding his hand, cried out.

“Lao Jiang's fallen down!” he yelled.

“I'm fine. I'm fine….” the antiquarian muttered. We had all gathered around, and Master Red was examining him in the dark.

“This danger the hexagrams speak of …” Master Red began. Violating protocol, I brought my mouth close to his ear and said, “This room is filled with methane, Master Red Jade. Don't let the children know. We've got to get out of here right away. There's not much time left.”

He nodded without a word; I could tell by the way his hair brushed against my face. It smelled awful, like rancid oil, and I recalled Biao's complaint when he had to stick his hand in the whale-oil receptacles that now burned brightly on the floor above us.

Lao Jiang stood with everyone's help, repeatedly assuring us he was fine and telling us to let go of him.

“Interpret the sign, Master Red Jade,” he said.

“Of course, Da Teh. This one is Chien, ‘Obstruction.’ The judgment assures it is wise to head southwest.”

“Another change in direction.”

“It can't be much farther,” I said. “I could swear we've crossed the room in a diagonal.”

“With a little zig in the middle,” the antiquarian acknowledged. “Hurry, Master Red Jade. We're running out of time.”

There was no doubt he was in terrible shape. He'd done his best to hide it, but he was actually worse than any of us.

Biao pulled on my hand and whispered, “Lao Jiang's walking as if he were drunk. What should I do?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “Just try to make sure he doesn't fall.”

“I'm still scared.”

“I know, Biao, but think of your name. You're a little tiger, strong and powerful. You can overcome your fear.”

“I should really change my name,
tai-tai.
I'm not so little anymore.” The boy could still think of things like that! Not me. My fear heightened as we spoke.

“Later, Biao. Once we get out of here,” I murmured, trying to keep from vomiting.

Luckily, it didn't take Master Red long to find the next hexagram, one that had a lovely, hopeful name: Lin, “Approach.” The judgment for this sign literally said, “Approach has supreme success.”

“Auntie,” Fernanda called out weakly. “Auntie, I can't go any farther. I think I'm going to collapse.”

“No, Fernandina! Not yet!” I pleaded, using the name she preferred. “Hold on a little longer. Come on.”

“I really don't think I can.”

“You are an Aranda and a woman! Do you want Lao Jiang, Biao, and Master Red to think we're not up to this sort of thing, that we're weak? Keep walking, and don't you dare faint!”

“I'll try,” she whimpered.

Ages—what seemed like a lifetime—later, Master Red announced that he'd found the eighth hexagram. No one was hurrying now. I don't know how, but Biao was holding Lao Jiang up by the shoulders to keep him from stumbling and falling. Meanwhile, I was barely able to take another step myself but had to haul Fernanda along by the waist, pulling on the arm she had slung around my neck. We weren't going to make it; we were minutes away from losing consciousness. I suppose all we had left was our survival instinct.

“Come on!” hardy Master Red exclaimed, his energetic voice like a beacon in the dark. “We've found the hexagram Hsieh, ‘Deliverance.’ ”

That sounded so good. Deliverance.

“Do you know what the judgment says? ‘Deliverance. / The southwest furthers. / If there is still something where one has to go, / Hastening brings good fortune.’ Let's go! Hurry! We're not far from the exit.”

None of us moved. I heard Master Red walk away and thought maybe Fernanda and I should just fall on the floor to rest and sleep. I was tired, so incredibly tired.

“Here! The trapdoor's here!” Master Red shouted. “I found it! Come on, everyone! We've got to get out of here!”

Yes, we had to get out of there, but we couldn't. I wanted to follow him, wanted to get out of that room, but I simply couldn't move, let alone drag my niece along with me.

“
Tai-tai,
are we going to die?”

“No, Biao. We'll get out of here. Walk toward Master Red Jade.”

“I can't with Lao Jiang.”

“Can you manage with Fernanda?”

“Maybe … I don't know.”

“Come on, try.”

“What about you,
tai-tai
?”

“Go get Master Red Jade and tell him to come back for Lao Jiang. Go on with Fernanda now. It's the air, Biao. There's poisonous gas in the air. The two of you get out of here as quick as you can.”

I felt him take Fernanda from my arms and heard them stumble off. There was no need to say anything to Master Red. They met along the way and he told Biao how to get to the trapdoor.

“Come, madame,” Master Red said next to me.

“What about Lao Jiang?”

“He's lost consciousness.”

“Pick him up and get him out of here. I just need to hold on to your tunic so I don't get lost. I don't think I can follow a straight line on my own.”

Where did I get the strength to walk, to hold Master Red's tunic between my frozen fingers and follow him to the trapdoor, dragging my feet, unconscious of my own movements? I honestly don't know. But once I was able to think clearly again, I realized I was much stronger than I had known. Just as it said in that phrase from the
Tao Te Ching
that the abbot of Wudang had given me, when there is nothing one cannot overcome, no one knows his own limits.