Shadow Sister (25 page)

“What will happen to her if she doesn’t return to her grave?”

“She will lose her ghost body.”

Tao shivered. “Perhaps there’s a place in hell for bodiless ghosts.”

Neither of them suggested just letting her fade away.

Silver tears fell from Baoyu’s eyes.

“I understand your unhappiness. You grieve for your dead mother, like I did for my dead brother who was so close to me it was as if he was my own flesh. My parents and my sister have moved south, the same as your grandfather and brother have. It is unlikely I will ever see them again.”

He had never really considered that before. The thought did make him sad, very sad.

“If you were my sister, I would be praying for you to begin a new life as I did for my brother. Please, let me say the words to release you.”

Baoyu was still for the first time. Her grim face softened. She shook her shadowy head as she lingered to gaze at her ghostly reflection in the pool, causing a small breeze that made leaves fall gently from the cherry tree and float on the surface of the water.

“She likes it here,” Tao said.

Raucous laughter from up on the walls cut through the silence. The guards, cold and bored with staring into the darkness, had lit a fire in a brazier on the ramparts and were drinking hot
kumiss
to warm themselves. The courtyard was hidden by trees and the guards weren’t doing their duty anyway. They were amusing themselves by hurling the Huan cups and bowls they’d been using from the top of the wall. They found the sound of the pottery smashing on the ground outside hilarious.

“I wish I could get the nomads out of here before we leave,” Tao said.

“If Baoyu had more strength,” Kai said, “she could frighten the Zhao away.”

“That’s the answer!” Tao couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to him before. “That will solve both problems.”

Neither Kai nor the ghost girl understood what he meant.

“If Baoyu is happy here, she should stay. She can haunt the Zhao so that they leave. If anyone tries to live here who she doesn’t like, she can scare them away. It will be known far and wide that this place is haunted. She can protect my home.”

“But she’s fading, you can see that,” Kai said.

“Then we will bring her cairn here. Sunila, you must go to the grave in the mountains and bring back all Baoyu’s bones. We will rebury them here!”

“But how will Sunila carry her bones?”

Kai didn’t trust the naga to collect every bone and bring them back safely.

Tao’s brain had finally woken up. “He won’t have to. I’ll go with him. I’ll carefully collect all her bones and carry them back.”

Specks of moonlight erupted from Baoyu’s hair like sparks from a fire. Tao was sure that this was a sign that she was happy with his plan.

“Will you do it, Sunila? Will you take me to Baoyu’s grave?”

The
naga
didn’t need words. Tao could tell from the way his blue eyes shone that he was keen to help. Kai didn’t need words either. He couldn’t hide his envy.

“While we are gone, Kai, you must dig a grave, a deep hole somewhere within these walls, a place where Baoyu’s bones will be undisturbed forever. I’ll say a sutra. If ever she decides she’s ready to leave and start a new life, she can.”

Moths had gathered around Tao, hovering above him, as if they approved of the plan.

“And the insects will help keep intruders away.” Tao wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he was confident it was true.

Baoyu’s tears stopped falling. She turned in a circle, her shadow gown billowing. She was happy.

“It is not safe,” Kai said. “You have no control over Sunila. He might fly anywhere. You might fall off. ”

Tao would not be dissuaded. “I’ll use the harness. And he’ll keep me safe, won’t you, Sunila?”

The
naga
stood upright and unfurled his wings. He looked as pleased and proud as the ghost girl did. They were both glad to be given a task, to be useful.

This time it was Tao who could hear Kai’s thoughts. Tao’s safety wasn’t the dragon’s only concern. This would be Tao’s first dragon flight, but it would not be with him. It would be hundreds of years before Kai’s wings grew. Tao wouldn’t live long enough to fly with him.

“I’m sorry, Kai, but I have to do this,” Tao said. “Then Baoyu might forgive Sunila for her death, and she will be at peace.”

Tao fetched the harness and saddle from the stables and fastened them onto the
naga
. He climbed onto his back and buckled the straps across his shoulders. He’d found an empty rice sack in which to bring back the bones.

“The moon is out. Sunila will glow,” Kai said. “The nomads on the wall, those out searching in the darkness, they will see him. They will shoot him down.”

Tao thought for a moment. He remembered a sutra about the
devas
who could not be seen by humans. He spoke to the
naga
. “Invisible!” he said in Sanskrit. “Make yourself invisible.”

The
naga
vanished. Tao looked as if he were suspended in midair.

“
You
are still visible,” Kai said.

“As you explained to me, he hasn’t really disappeared. He has taken on the same colour as the sky. Once Sunila is in the air, no one will see me from below.”

The
naga
made his ungainly vertical take-off. Tao held the reins tight and felt the narrow leather straps strain as they took his full weight. He gripped the
naga’s
flanks with his knees.

Below, Kai was making anxious scraping sounds. Tao called down to him, wishing he didn’t have to leave the dragon behind.

“Try not to injure worms and beetles as you dig the grave.” He could hear the tremor in his voice as Sunila flew up to the height of the top of the wall.

The
naga
changed the angle of his wings, levelled his body and flapped off into the darkness. Tao hunched down as they passed over the guards on the wall. Despite the moonlight, they didn’t see the dragon.

Tao settled his weight into the saddle. He felt secure now that they were flying horizontally. This was his first, and probably his last, dragon flight. He wished it was daylight so he could see the land stretch out below him. All he could see were the black shapes of treetops. Above him were the stars. The moon was getting low. They didn’t have much time.

The flight was not the exhilarating experience Tao had imagined. The night air was freezing as it rushed by him. He could tell the naga enjoyed flying, but he wasn’t as fast as expected. Just as Tao was thinking that he might freeze to death before they reached the cairn, the
naga
started to circle, descending as he did. Like all dragons, Sunila’s eyesight was excellent, even in moonlight. He was looking for their destination, and when the
naga’s
hind paws touched the earth, they were right next to the small pile of rocks that was the resting place of Baoyu’s earthly remains. Tao remembered the exhausting journey to the compound, clambering up and down mountains that had taken almost a full day. Although the
naga
didn’t have great speed, this journey had taken less than an hour.

Tao warmed his hands in his armpits before he could get his fingers to undo the straps. He climbed down from the
naga’s
back, his legs stiff with cold.

“Well done, Sunila.” He patted the
naga
. “You did a good job. You fly well.”

The
naga
made a chirruping sound.

Tao carefully removed the stones from the cairn that he had rebuilt, and uncovered the remains of the little girl. It didn’t take long. He was expecting to see a whole skeleton laid out, recognisably human. Instead there was a jumble of bone fragments mixed with damp ashes. Tao had been present at two cremations, his brother’s and that of an old monk who had died at the monastery, but he had only concerned himself with the souls of the dead, not their remains. The bone fragments were shades of pale grey. The heat from the fire had made them brittle and they had cracked. He picked some up and they broke in his fingers. He rinsed the bones with water from a nearby stream to clean off the wood ash, carefully scooped them up with a piece of bark and put them in the sack. There were slivers of bone from an arm or a leg, and larger curved pieces that must have been parts of Baoyu’s skull. He saw one little tooth, white and neat, not sharp like her ghost teeth. Tao had been expecting the sack of bones to be almost as heavy as the child would have been when she was alive, but Baoyu’s bones only filled one corner of the sack and weighed no more than two handfuls of rice.

Sunila was sniffing the breeze and shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. Then he suddenly unfurled his wings and took off.

“Wait!” Tao shouted. “Don’t go.”

The
naga
disappeared into the darkness above.

“Don’t leave me!”

Tao let the sack fall from his hands. The fragile bones made a clinking sound as they fragmented even more. The cold was penetrating his own bones. He thought of the long walk back to the compound – if he could even find his way without Kai to lead him. He felt the panic rise in his throat, and Kai wasn’t there to reassure him, to guide him, to protect him. He thought of Pema. If Jilong’s nomads captured her he hoped she would die swiftly.

But after a few minutes, Tao heard a flapping sound. The
naga
was descending again. He landed next to Tao, who was about to hug the
naga
with relief until he saw that he had a large tree frog in his mouth and one in each forepaw. They were all squirming, struggling to escape.

“I’m glad to see you, Sunila.” He ruffled the
naga’s
golden mane instead. “I should never have doubted you.”

Before his wings had grown, Sunila had passed the same way and nearly starved. Now that he had wings, he could fly up into the trees and find frogs. Tao looked away. He didn’t want to watch the creatures’ death throes as the
naga
ate them alive.

Tao picked up the sack of bones, muttering a sutra for the souls of the frogs.

“Now we must go,” he said.

Tao tied the neck of the sack with two lengths of vine and secured it to the harness. Then he climbed onto the
naga’s
back and strapped himself on. Sunila flapped his wings. Tao clung on.

The journey back to the Huan compound seemed much longer. The
naga’s
small wings weren’t meant for long flights. They flapped slowly. Tao could hear rasping breath and feel Sunila’s great heart beating fast. The naga was tiring, and Tao hoped he had the strength to make it back to the compound. Tao was so cold, he could no longer grip the reins. He was glad he’d secured the sack of bones well. He wouldn’t have been able to hold onto them with his frozen fingers. The moon was almost at the horizon.

At last, the glow from the fire that the guards had built on the compound walls came into view. Sunila made himself invisible. Kai and Baoyu were waiting, their faces upturned. Sunila landed in the courtyard. Tao’s hands were too cold to unbuckle the straps, but Kai managed to undo them with his talons. Tao climbed down from the
naga’s
back and Kai supported him as his frozen legs gave way.

“Well done, Sunila,” Tao said.

Baoyu was hovering anxiously.

Tao had thought that Kai would dig the grave in the furthest corner of the compound, but instead he’d dug it in the garden, right next to the rock whose shadow had caused Tao so much night-time fear.

“This is the busiest place,” Tao said. “You’ve put her grave at the heart of the compound.”

“I know, but this is her favourite place. She will be happy to be buried here, and no one will dig up this little patch of garden.”

Tao smiled. “You’re right. It’s a good choice.”

Baoyu watched as Tao climbed down into the grave and emptied the sack. Kai made a sad sound like a cracked bell ringing when he saw the small pile of bones.

Something was still troubling the ghost girl.

“You have forgotten this,” Kai said.

He held the tiny finger bone clasped between two of his talons. He placed it in the grave. It was black from the
naga’s
venom and was the only bone that was whole. Baoyu drifted into the grave to examine her bones. She shed a few moonlight tears and then left the grave. She was content.

The two dragons scraped earth into the grave to cover the bones. Sunila made low musical sounds as he did his work. Tao remembered the way Sha had made a similar deep, humming lament. There wasn’t a suitable Buddhist sutra for such an occasion, since hungry ghosts were from the old beliefs. Instead Tao made up some words of his own.

“May Baoyu’s bones rest here undisturbed forever. And may she eventually attain a state of peace so she can begin a new life and live long and happily.”

The dragons tamped down the earth with their paws. Tao couldn’t risk making a commemoration. He didn’t want anyone to know where the grave was. He replanted the crocuses and the chrysanthemums that Kai had dug up. The dragon pushed the rocks back into place with his tail.

Baoyu circled around the grave. The sky to the east was tinged with pink. The ghost girl’s mouth turned up at the edges in the slightest smile, before her shadow body dissipated in the first rays of sunlight.

“Tomorrow night she will be stronger again, now that she is near her remains,” Kai said. “I hope that is something we will not regret.”

The
naga
had gone to sleep in the stables. Tao lay down on Wei’s bed, exhausted. He didn’t bother to take off his clothes, he just pulled the quilt over himself. Kai curled up on the floor at the end of the bed.

Tao was woken by Fo Tu Deng shaking his arm.

“Jilong is furious. They still haven’t found the Black Camel Bandits’ hide-out. You must seek another vision. He will kill us all – you, me and the dragons. And it won’t be a slow death. You know what he’s capable of.”

Tao sat up. The sky was still tinged with pink, so he knew that what his body was telling him was right – he’d only been asleep for a few minutes. He felt more tired than when he’d fallen into bed. But the monk’s words gave him a gleam of hope. If the nomads hadn’t found the bandits hide-out, then Pema was still safe.