Nine Gates (43 page)

“And now, honored Horse, where shall we begin?”

“Since the Yellow Springs give rise to the river that carries the suns west to east beneath the Earth, there are two places from which those in the upper world may access the Suns’ River—the farthest east and the farthest west. Since we are in the West, we shall seek out the western opening. From there, we will journey alongside the river eastward, to where the Nine Yellow Springs are to be found.”

Righteous Drum was frowning, the expression thoughtful rather than angry.

“The farthest west is a great distance away, Loyal Wind. Time is not to be wasted.”

“I had thought of that,” Loyal Wind said. He gave a low whistle and the turf beneath Brenda’s hiking boots shook with the rhythm of galloping hooves. The chestnut raised his head from grazing, and Brenda noticed that although the horse wore a saddle, it wore neither bit nor bridle, the sole purpose of its halter being to support the armor that protected its head.

“I have recruited,” Loyal Wind said, “horses to carry us swiftly to our destination.”

Brenda thought she heard an odd inflection in how Loyal Wind pronounced “horses,” but decided it was some fluke of the translation spell that enabled her to understand the Chinese of the Lands. Flying Claw apparently also heard that odd note, for he looked between the approaching horses and Loyal Wind, his brow knit in consternation.

“You say horses,” he said. “Then these are not merely the spirits of some noble steeds, drawn from the pastures of the afterlife?”

“No,” Loyal Wind said. “For this task, we will need more than even the great courage embodied in the spirits of once-mortal warhorses. I have called along the lines to those who once served the same Earthly Branch with which I had the honor of being affiliated. They will summon the winds beneath
their hooves to give us speed. Nor will they shy or be afraid as even the bravest mortal horse must be in the places we must go.”

Brenda didn’t know whether this encouraged her or not.

Deborah looked up at the pale grey with charcoal-black mane and tail who had come to stand before her.

“Loyal Wind, I’m no great rider. In fact, I think the last time I was on a horse was at my granddaughter’s birthday party, and let me tell you, the horse was in charge, then, not me.”

Loyal Wind’s stern face twitched in the slightest of smiles, as his gaze rested on Deborah’s rounded, fireplug figure.

“Do not worry, Grandmother Pig. These horses are prepared to take charge in this case as well. They understand your goal and wholly approve.”

The horse that walked over to Brenda and blew gentle inquiry into her face had a coat of pale, shimmering gold. Its flowing mane and tail were silvery white. Brenda had never been as horse-crazy as some girls, but as she reached out to tentatively stroke the horse along the wide white blaze that ran from its forelock to above its muzzle, she thought this horse might convert her.

“Do we just mount?” she asked, looking at the horse’s very intelligent brown eyes, and feeling distinctly weird at the idea of climbing on the back of what had once been a man. “Aren’t we doing introductions or something?”

Loyal Wind’s mouth twitched in what was definitely a smile. “Certainly. He says to call him ‘Leaf.’”

“Was that his name?”

“A nickname. Now, mount up. As Righteous Drum has reminded us, we have no time to waste.”

Flying Claw walked over to Brenda, his own mount, a bright blood bay without a trace of white, trailing him with evident curiosity.

“I’ll help you up,” he said. “Since there are saddlebags, you might as well split the stuff from your pack between them. Both you and the horse will be more comfortable. You
can put your water bottle here, where you can easily reach it.”

He showed her, moving efficiently, but without the least condescension.

Why should he condescend?
Brenda thought to distract herself as he helped her get into the saddle.
We’ve shown him everything from how to flush a toilet to how to open a bottle of liquid soap.

Riprap had declined offered assistance, saying that he regularly led trail rides back in Colorado.

“The saddle’s different,” he said, “but the horse is a whole lot more cooperative.”

He clapped the bulky liver chestnut that was his assigned mount on one shoulder as he said this, then looked embarrassed.

“Sorry. I guess that’s not exactly polite.”

Loyal Wind smiled, more easily this time. “Regard is never impolite, especially when coming from a giant who might be out of legend. Forgive me if I stare, but I have never seen skin so dark, nor hair that curls tightly as yours does.”

Riprap shrugged. “I guess I’d better get used to stares if we are going to the Lands one of these days, but then I guess all of us had better do so. Nissa’s turquoise eyes and blond hair aren’t going to be any more common than my particular oddities.”

“No,” Righteous Drum agreed. He had managed to get into the saddle of his own mount, a handsome dapple grey, although with some awkwardness due to his missing arm. “I have considered whether or not we might use your varied physical appearances to our advantage someday, but that is not a consideration for now.”

“No,” Loyal Wind said, mounting his own horse. As soon as he was in the saddle, the horse started walking, presumably west. “Not for now. We will travel for a short while at a normal pace, but as there is not a moment to be lost, my associates and I will ask you to trust us.”

Brenda thought she heard Deborah mutter, “Do we have a
choice?” but when she glanced over, the Pig’s expression was tranquil, even interested as she glanced around at their surroundings.

“Have you ever been in the guardian domains before, Deborah?” she asked.

“I haven’t,” Deborah said. “The Pig is the most home-loving of all the signs of the zodiac, and I guess I’m a good Pig. I’ve never felt the urge to venture far. I should have tried sooner. This is incredibly beautiful.”

“And it hasn’t even gotten strange yet,” Brenda said. “Just wait until you see a fish with a dog’s head or a unicorn. Then you’ll really know you’re somewhere else.”

Gradually, their pace increased. Brenda felt the breeze tugging loose little tendrils from where she’d pulled her hair back into a twist. Her horse’s gait was smooth, especially once they increased their pace beyond a trot, then, without warning, it became smoother still. The sound of her horse’s hooves hitting the turf vanished between one stride and the next. When Brenda looked down, she saw the pale golden horse was running a good foot above the ground.

She stifled an “eep” of surprise, but saw Flying Claw grinning at her sideways. She grinned back.

“This is cool,” she said, “and a whole lot more comfortable, but Mr. Loyal Wind, are we really going fast enough that we’ll get to this farthest west without having to ride for weeks?”

“We are,” Loyal Wind said. “Not only are we going as fast as these tireless horses can carry us, but the winds are also carrying us. Because we are upon the winds, you will only be aware of the speed of the horse, but we will be moving faster by far.”

They were also moving higher. Her horse’s hooves were brushing the tops of trees, their dark green jungle foliage tossing as the winds passed over them.

Conversation was possible because there was no engine noise, nor did the rushing winds that carried them roar in their ears. Righteous Drum took the opportunity to lecture
them about some of what they might encounter once they entered the afterlife. Although Brenda did her best to concentrate, she found her attention wandering.

It’s just that even though I’m riding a horse above the treetops, this is all so unreal. I feel like I’m going to wake up any minute now.

Her sense of unreality was not helped in the least when Leaf turned his head to one side, fixed her with a warm, brown gaze that was somehow familiar, and started talking to her.

“You must succeed,” the horse said. “The situation is far worse than you imagine.”

“What?” Brenda said. Only tremendous effort on her part kept her from saying something stupid like, “Were you talking to me?”

She glanced around, but although they were riding in a loose diamond formation, with her between Flying Claw and Riprap, Righteous Drum ahead and Deborah behind, no one seemed to have noticed either her or the pale golden horse’s words. Indeed, Righteous Drum had not paused in his tale of Yu the Great and his apparently endless battles against a water demon called Gong-Gong.

Then Brenda remembered she’d heard this voice once before, only that time it had spoken to her from a pool.

The speaker had been a woman then, but Brenda supposed that if she could handle a species shift, why should a little thing like gender bother her?

She’d always hated stories where the characters spent a lot of time refusing to believe what they were in the middle of—and anyhow, if she was going crazy, not believing it wasn’t going to change anything.

“Far worse?” she said, hoping she sounded conversational. “Would you like to tell me about it? Oh, and shouldn’t you watch where you’re going?”

“Only if it makes you more comfortable,” Leaf said, and politely turned his head forward. “I will explain, but I am going to ask you not to tell the others—not yet.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” Brenda said. “Why can’t I tell them?”

“Because then time will be wasted,” Leaf replied. “Right now, the course you are following seems the best one by far. Establishing the Nine Gates and assisting Pai Hu to find the reason for his disturbing nightmare are both very necessary.”

Brenda remembered how Pearl and the others could talk and talk, sometimes to no end, and reluctantly nodded.

“Okay. That’s reassuring in a way, I mean, since you say we’re doing the right things. But who are you and why should I trust what you’re saying to me?”

“I am one who has a long association with your family—your maternal family, not your paternal family.”

“And so I should trust you?”

The pale golden horse shuddered his skin, and Brenda felt reprimanded. She decided to back off, but she also promised herself that she’d reserve judgment.

“Tell me about why things are worse than we imagine,” she suggested.

Leaf seemed mollified. “Righteous Drum and his associates believed that their overthrow was simply one among the many coups that have occurred in the history of the Jade Petal Throne. It is, and it is not. Those who overthrew their emperor had allies, dangerous allies. Already, they are regretting the alliance.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Brenda asked, “especially since you don’t want me to tell anyone?”

“Because someone should know,” Leaf said. “Someone should be warned. Our people are aware of this danger, because in times past these dangerous allies have been our enemies. We have kept a watch on them, and are fearful of what will happen if they succeed in their current efforts. They will not forget our old wars, especially when they become more powerful.”

“Why not tell…” Brenda began, heard the whine of protest in her voice, and stopped. She breathed deeply a few
times, organizing her thoughts. “And I’m a good someone to tell, because you can get in touch with me. And because I’m also tied to the Thirteen Orphans, and the Thirteen Orphans are the only ones who—as far we know, at least—can get into the Lands, and the Lands are where these nasty allies of our enemies are currently invested.”

“Very good. You have a Rat’s keen mind.”

“But you didn’t tell my dad. You told me.”

“Your father does not have the dual heritage. He is not of our blood—your mother is.”

“My mom? She never… I mean, I didn’t…”

“Your mother is a mortal woman, nothing more, but her heritage is interesting.”

Brenda, remembering her great-aunt, a creepy old lady who smoked a pipe and really did seem to have the second sight, nodded. When Aunt Meara had been hit by a car, as she was crossing the street after church, they’d gone back to her house and found she’d left a copy of her will and notes as to her funeral arrangements neatly arrayed on the kitchen table.

Brenda rubbed her forehead and temples with her hands, smelling horse sweat and something that might have been her own fear.

“But you,” she said. “You’re one of the horses from the Lands, at least that’s what Loyal Wind said. How can you be something else—your voice sounds sort of Irish? I mean, what’s going on?”

“The afterlife is one of the few places where all worlds cross,” Leaf said. “That’s why you’re using the Nine Yellow Springs to give ch’i to your gates, is it not?”

“That’s what they said,” Brenda admitted. “So did you just sort of sneak in?”

“I made an agreement. Horses are very important where I come from, far more than they ever were in China. There is a link I have exploited.”

Something in the tone of voice—although Brenda was far from certain that either of them was actually speaking in the
fashion she had accepted as “normal” until a few months ago—discouraged further inquiry.

“So you won’t always be here. Sometimes this…” Brenda slapped the pale golden horse’s shoulder, “is just a horse.”

“A very interesting and unusual horse, but, yes…”

“Will you be back?”

“I might. I might not. You are warned, but do not look for help other than that warning. I a…”

Leaf’s voice stopped in midword. There was a change in the quality of the rushing wind that told Brenda that no good would come from calling after.

What have I gotten into?

There was no answer, but then Brenda did not expect one.

They arrived
at the opening to the western end of the Suns’ River after long journeying through lands that grew increasingly strange the farther west they went.

From time to time, mists would rise, and the lands beneath them would vanish entirely. Brenda, recalling Pai Hu’s nightmare, found herself imagining that there really was no solid ground there at all, only mist and beneath that mist, void.

But the wind-running horses always carried them beyond the mists, and there would be solid land—usually rich green, sometimes jungles, sometimes mountains, sometimes marsh planted with what Flying Claw told her was rice.