Everything Under the Sky (41 page)

Though it might sound paradoxical, I opened my eyes when I was blinded by the light. I blinked and rubbed them until I was once again used to the glare. It was the flame on Lao Jiang's torch, as bright as the midday sun. I was lying on the floor but had no idea where I was, and my first thought was for Fernanda.

“My niece?” I asked out loud. “And Biao?”

“They're still asleep, madame,” Master Red said, leaning over so I could see his face. He was the one holding the torch. I propped myself up on my elbows and raised my head to look around: We were on a broad platform similar to the ones in the Han shaft we'd descended to reach the mausoleum, but this one was tiled in black. It was also much bigger; apart from the four of us lying there, at least four or five more would have fit. We were in another deep shaft, as wide and circular as the first but the walls here were made of rock and seemed much more solid, sturdier.

Fernanda, Lao Jiang, and Biao were sleeping, completely still. “Have you tried to wake them, Master Red Jade?”

“Yes, madame, it shouldn't be long now. I applied some herbs to each of your noses. The stimulant will soon bring them back to consciousness. It's extremely dangerous to breathe methane.”

“Why weren't you poisoned?” I asked, using my hands to help me into a sitting position.

Master Red smiled. “That's a secret, madame, a secret of the internal martial arts.”

“You're not saying you don't breathe,” I joked, but something in his face made me blanch. “You do breathe, don't you, Master Red Jade?”

“Perhaps a little less than you do,” he reluctantly admitted, “or perhaps in a different way. We learn to breathe from the abdomen. Control over the breath and the muscles that regulate it is one of our usual meditation practices, a technique we learn for health and longevity. While you inhale and exhale some fifteen or twenty times, and the children a little more, we do so only four times, like tortoises and they live to be over a hundred. That's why the methane didn't affect me: I inhaled much less of it.”

The Celestials, and the Taoists in particular, never ceased to amaze me, but I didn't feel up to learning anything right then. My entire body ached. With supreme effort I managed to stand. As I turned, just behind me, I saw iron rungs in the wall that were undoubtedly the ladder we'd come down—though I don't remember how. The ceiling was some ten feet above me, and fortunately the trapdoor leading to that huge, gas-filled cathedral with the bronze floor was shut tight. I don't know how we made it out of there alive. At least I'd been able to drop pieces of turquoise right until the very end (the end of my memory, in any event, and I wasn't exactly sure where that had been). We would see if they were of any use at all.

My niece opened her eyes and moaned. I knelt by her side and ran my hand over her hair.

“How are you?” I asked affectionately.

“Could someone turn off the light?” she protested rudely. The hand I held on her head was tempted to rise up and give her a proper smack, but I didn't believe in such things. The desire, however, was most certainly there.

Biao also woke up complaining about the torchlight, although like a good servant he was a little more polite.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“I have no idea, Biao. We've left the second floor of the mausoleum, but we're not yet at the third. There are ramps similar to the ones in the shaft you fell into, although these are much bigger and more secure. Look,” I said, pointing to the wall in front, where two of them could be seen going down. I'm sure we'd have seen more if we'd looked into the shaft, but I didn't feel like moving all that way.

I helped the children up, and it was then that Lao Jiang gave signs of life.

“How are you, Da Teh?” Master Red asked, bringing the torch closer.

“Move that away, please!” he exclaimed, putting his arm over his eyes.

“Well, we're all alive,” I said happily, mostly to hide how furious I was with Lao Jiang. I didn't plan on saying anything, but I was going to keep a close eye on him and read his thoughts if necessary to prevent him from making another unilateral decision that could endanger all our lives. That would not happen again.

“Shall we eat before heading down?” Master Red asked shyly.

The children wrinkled their noses in disgust, and both Lao Jiang and I shook our heads. I couldn't even think about food without feeling sick all over again.

“Do you know what would do us good right now, Auntie?” Fernanda commented as she picked up her bundle. “One of those ginger infusions you used to drink on the ship.”

“Eat something along the way, Master Red Jade,” Lao Jiang said as he walked along the platform toward the first ramp. We all hurried behind; Master Red didn't even try to pull food out of his bag.

We started down into the pit, following the spiral of platforms and ramps built up against the wall. It wasn't difficult, and there was a wonderful, soft current of fresh air that rose up from the bottom, clearing the fog from our heads and the poison from our veins. It soon became cold, and shortly after that it was positively icy. We bundled up and hid our hands inside the big sleeves on our padded jackets. By then we'd reached the bottom of the shaft, where the last ramp ended abruptly. In front of us yawned the mouth of a tunnel; there was nowhere else to go.

“Where are the ten thousand bridges?” Lao Jiang muttered.

“The architect Sai Wu told his son he'd find ten thousand bridges on the third level that would seem to lead nowhere,” I clarified for Master Red. “However, there would be one route that would lead to the only exit.”

“Ten thousand bridges?” he repeated. “Well, ten thousand is a symbolic number for us. All it means is ‘many.’ ”

“Yes, we know,” I replied, watching the antiquarian stride over to a receptacle at the mouth of the tunnel, similar to the ones along the walls in the funeral palace. This one took somewhat longer to light when he held the torch up to it, perhaps because of the cold. Once it did, however, we again watched the fire advance down a groove along the wall, illuminating the tunnel.

We cautiously walked some fifty feet, all five senses alert. A strange iron structure was at the end and beyond it nothing but darkness. We headed over to examine the enormous rusted frame that seemed to rise mysteriously out of the floor. Three thick, rather short posts emerged from the rock (one on either side and one in the middle of the floor) with enormous iron chains attached. The chain in the middle headed straight into the dark on the other side; the two on the sides rose diagonally up to the top of two sturdy posts a little over three feet high and from there went straight off into the void as well.

“A bridge?” Fernanda asked, terrified. “I'm afraid so,” Lao Jiang confirmed.

Three chains, I said to myself, just three iron chains: one to walk along and the other two, about three and a half feet high, to hold on to. The links were as big around as my fist, but even so it didn't look like the safest way to cross a chasm.

The flame reached more and more receptacles, gradually illuminating the shadows. Standing at the end of the tunnel, we watched agape as the third level of the mausoleum was revealed. The iron bridge in front of us ended about a hundred feet away on a pedestal that must have been nine square feet. Two more bridges reached out from there, one to the far end and one to the side. Unfortunately, there were several pedestals just like it, all connected by iron bridges, and these pedestals were actually huge pillars that sank so deep into the earth we couldn't make out the bottoms of them. As far as the eye could see below us, thousands of bridges formed a labyrinth of horizontal and diagonal chains at varying heights and slopes, beginning and ending on top of pillars of different heights. Sai Wu hadn't lied or exaggerated when he said there were “ten thousand bridges that seem to lead nowhere.”

Overwhelmed, we contemplated the labyrinth without a word, holding our breath as the fire moved down, expanding our field of view and confirming our fears. At some point the flames reached the bottom and started back up the pillars. Soon the entire place was perfectly illuminated, and there was once again the unpleasant smell of burning whale oil.

“This is very dangerous,” Lao Jiang observed, in case the rest of us hadn't realized it. “We could end up right back where we started after walking for hours and hours along those unstable iron chains.”

Very uplifting—made you want to get started right away.

“There must be some logic even if we don't see it,” I said, adopting the Chinese way of thinking.

Master Red regarded the bridges and pillars, turning his head left and right, looking down every now and then.

“What are you looking at, Master Red Jade?” Fernanda asked curiously.

“As madame said, there must be some logic. If there's an exit, this can't simply be random. How many square columns do you see?”

I hadn't thought to count. On our level there were three rows of three giant pillars each. Down below, it was impossible to calculate.

“Nine columns,” Master Red declared out loud. “And how many bridges begin and end at each one?”

“That's hard to say, Master Red Jade. They all cross at different points.”

“I'm going to that column in front of us,” he said, walking toward the bridge as he adjusted and secured the bag on his back. “I'll be able to see better from there.”

My blood ran cold, and not because of the air temperature.

Holding on tightly to the chains, Master Red put one foot on the unsteady, rusted walkway that creaked and swayed as if it were about to collapse. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to watch him fall into the void or smash into one of the pillars or the ground far below. Luckily, all I heard was the creaking and squeaking of the iron as he moved forward. There would be no convincing me to let the children walk on those. Master Red finally reached the end after a few very long minutes of unbearable tension. You could hear a collective exhalation when he did, and Lao Jiang and the children gave a jubilant shout. I was too terrified to move, let alone openly rejoice. I just sighed and relaxed every muscle in my body that had contracted in fear. Master Red Jade waved to us from the other side.

“It's steady,” he said, “but don't come just yet.”

We watched him examine the labyrinth again, turning his head in every direction and leaning dangerously over the edge of the pillar. Then, unexpectedly, he sat down and pulled the
luo p'an
out of his bag.

“What's he doing?” Biao wanted to know.

“He's using feng shui to study the flow of energy and the arrangement of the bridges,” Lao Jiang explained.

“And how will that help us?” the boy insisted.

“Remember, this tomb was designed by master geomancers.” Red Jade stood up and put the compass away.

“I'm going on to the next column,” he announced. “Why?” Lao Jiang asked.

“Because I need to confirm a few things.”

“Please be careful,” I begged. “These walkways are very old.”

“As old as this mausoleum, madame, and as you can see, it's still standing.”

The iron links creaked once again, and we watched him move away, putting one foot in front of the other and holding on to the pliant chain handrails. If his legs wobbled even a little, he'd be dead. Balance was fundamental, and I took good note of that for when it came time to risk my life.

Even though the posts anchoring the bridges stood between him and us, we saw that he arrived safe and sound at the second pillar. We could tell he had pulled the
luo p'an
back out to perform his energy calculations. Once again he leaned dangerously over the edge to examine the walkways below, then finally stood and beckoned us over.

“You two stay here,” I said to Fernanda and Biao.

The boy looked up at Lao Jiang for help, but the antiquarian had already begun walking across the chain. My niece furrowed her brow like I'd never seen her furrow it before.

“I'm going,” she declared, obstinate and defiant. “No, you're staying.”

“I want to go, too,
tai-tai.
”

“Well, I'm sorry. The both of you will wait here until we come back.”

“And what if you don't come back?” Fernanda asked, still glowering. “Then leave and find help in Xi'an.”

“We'll follow you as soon you're gone,” she warned arrogantly, dropping her bag on the floor.

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Yes we would. Wouldn't we, Biao? We already followed you from Wudang, remember?”

“Biao,” I said, “I forbid you to follow Lao Jiang, and I mean even if Fernanda orders you to. Do you understand?” The boy lowered his head sadly. “Yes,
tai-tai.
”

“And you, Fernanda, you will stay with Biao. If you disobey me, I'll put you in the strictest Catholic boarding school there is as soon as we're back in Paris. Is that clear? I'm sure you've heard what French nuns are like. And I swear you will not come out, even for holidays.”

Her expression changed from anger to surprise to rage, but I had gotten through to her. She stomped her foot and flopped down on her bag with her arms crossed, looking back along the tunnel.

Master Red was still beckoning to us.

“Here, Biao,” I said, opening my bag and handing him my box of pencils and my sketchbook. “So you don't get too bored. Please be careful. Don't do anything silly. We'll be back soon.”

“Thank you,
tai-tai.
”

I secured my bag tightly so it wouldn't throw me off balance, moved one trembling foot forward, and grasped the rails with my cold, sweaty hands. Lao Jiang was nearing the other side.

“Shall I follow you or wait?” I asked.

“The walkways are very solid, madame!” Master Red shouted from afar. “Don't be afraid! They'll hold the both of you!”

And so, terrified, I started to walk. It was the hardest test of any so far. Death was just one false step away. I didn't want to look down, but nor did I want to place my feet incorrectly and lose my balance. If I kept sweating as I was, my hands would slip no matter how much rust coated those iron rings.

Lao Jiang reached the pillar and turned around.

“Keep coming,” he said. “I assure you there's nothing to worry about.”