Thirteen Orphans (27 page)
Before she left the kitchen, Brenda reached out and knocked over the rack holding her tiles, breaking up the accidental limit hand.
“The power isn’t in that,” Pearl said, but her tone said she understood the impulse.
“I know,” Brenda agreed, “But I feel better without it staring at me.”
In the office, Pearl went to a closet and took out what Brenda recognized as her sword case. Then Pearl settled herself into a high-backed chair upholstered in red leather, opened the case, and settled the sword across her knees. As she did so, she waved Brenda and Nissa to chairs facing her own.
“I’m going to start,” Pearl said, placing her hands on the sheathed sword, “with All Winds and Dragons for the banishing.”
“That’s a powerful spell!” Nissa protested. “I asked Des about it just the other day.”
“You don’t think the moon is powerful?” Pearl countered. “After that, I’m going to work Confused Gates. Then I’ll do Sparrow’s Sanctuary. Got that?”
“And we just feed you ch’i?” Brenda said.
“That’s right,” Pearl said. “Take time to focus, and I’ll let you know when to start the Knitting. Oh … Avoid dots in your mental imaging. They’re evoking the moon right now, and we don’t need that.”
Brenda nodded. She thought she should have realized that without being reminded, but, in the corner of her heart where she was completely truthful with herself, she admitted that Pearl’s advice had saved her from what could have been a dangerous mistake.
Brenda closed her eyes, and pressed the upper parts of her fingers to her temples, forcing herself to concentrate. Knitting really wasn’t a hard pattern. You simply paired a tile from one suit with its match from another suit, and repeated for seven sets. Des had said you could even use the same pair repeatedly—as long as you didn’t exceed four such pairs, since there were only four tiles of each type in a suit.
Also,
Brenda thought,
then you’d have created kongs, and that would possibly create a different spell. Pongs would, too. Better not exceed one of each set.
Brenda thought,
then you’d have created kongs, and that would possibly create a different spell. Pongs would, too. Better not exceed one of each set.
Since Pearl had ruled out dots, Brenda’s choice of suits was already made: bamboo and characters. Characters were the hardest for Brenda to visualize, since they showed actual Chinese words.
Oh, well,
she thought.
If I forget one, I can move to the next. This spell doesn’t require sequencing the numbers. At least the bamboo will be easy. Except for one bamboo, they’re just sequences of canes.
she thought.
If I forget one, I can move to the next. This spell doesn’t require sequencing the numbers. At least the bamboo will be easy. Except for one bamboo, they’re just sequences of canes.
One bamboo was always represented as a bird, so Brenda envisioned a tile printed with a peacock, then set a tile with the character for “one”—a simple, horizontal line—next to it. Two was even easier: two bamboo canes, one above the other, and two horizontal lines, the higher somewhat shorter than the one beneath. Three was three bamboo canes, and three horizontal lines. Four characters wasn’t hard to remember, because it was a simple pictogram, almost like a face. Four bamboo, stacked two and two, went next to it.
Brenda couldn’t remember five characters, and quickly skipped to six. Seven characters reminded her of an arrow set in a drawn bow, and came quickly to mind. When she finished setting seven bamboo next to it, Brenda wondered why she didn’t feel the little tingle that usually told her a spell was ready to be released.
Of course!
she thought, mentally counting through her row of tiles.
I am a first-class moron. I skipped five, so I need one more set.
she thought, mentally counting through her row of tiles.
I am a first-class moron. I skipped five, so I need one more set.
Eight was one of the simpler numerical characters. Des had shown his students how it had been reduced from a much more complex design to end up rather like an abstract depiction of two legs, running independent of a body. Eight bamboo, by contrast, was the second most complex of the bamboo tiles, showing the eight canes arranged in two mirror image “gates.”
When Brenda finished imagining the last cane on the lower gate and ran through her sequence again, she felt the now-expected tingle. She also felt her ch’i damming up behind the pattern. Des had warned them not to hold the flow back for too long, as it could cause injury to the physical body, but Brenda didn’t think that caution applied to that moment.
She opened her eyes and assessed the situation.
Pearl had risen to her feet and was standing a few paces in front of Brenda and Nissa, her sword stuck in the belt of her bathrobe. Her hands were shaping what Brenda knew was a Buddhist mudra, a hand form used to focus the attention in meditation. Brenda didn’t know this particular mudra, but it was pretty complicated, and she bet Pearl had built it as she had created her spell.
Pearl might even have already invoked it. Brenda didn’t have the sophistication to tell without casting a spell of her own, and she knew all her ch’i must be reserved to assist Pearl.
All Winds and Dragons didn’t mean that Pearl would be summoning all four winds and all three dragons, but that she would make up her pattern from a selection of those honors.
Choose one menu item from Column A and one from Column B,
Brenda thought, and stifled a giggle. She felt her control on the prepared Knitting spell waver, and forced herself to concentrate.
Brenda thought, and stifled a giggle. She felt her control on the prepared Knitting spell waver, and forced herself to concentrate.
There was no danger involved in losing control of this spell—not like with a summons—but if she lost concentration Brenda would lose all the ch’i she had prepared to transfer, as well as losing time as she set the spell a second time. From experience, Brenda knew that she always found it harder to shape a spell a second time in close succession. Her attention kept going back to the prior attempt, muddling the clarity of the images.
Once she had her focus back, Brenda allowed herself to speculate as to which winds and which dragons Pearl would summon. There would be a mixture, or Pearl would have chosen Four Wind or perhaps Three Great Scholars, but what was the advantage to a mixture?
Brenda’s attention was in danger of wavering again when Pearl unwrapped her fingers from their complicated pattern. Without looking directly at the two younger women, she said in a stern voice, “I am ready. Knit.”
Pearl didn’t want her two young partners to realize just how dangerous a creature lurked outside her house, especially since it was still held—if only barely—by her wards. If Brenda and Nissa realized just how great the danger was, they might panic and fail to feed her the ch’i Pearl would certainly need before this was over. Then, truly, they would be doomed.
The moon had many occupants, but only one was likely to be attracted by the bright coin that Brenda’s unintentional spell would have flashed when she drew that final tile.
The Three-Legged Toad.
The Three-Legged Toad was always attracted by things that were bright and shiny. There were tales told about the Immortal Liu Hai who had ridden the Toad, luring it to unwilling servitude by dangling a string of shiny gold coins. Pearl had no desire to control the Toad. All she wanted was to make it retreat to its home in the moon.
The Toad pawed with its one front paw against the wards and Pearl could feel them bending. The Toad was enormous, not simply by toad standards, but by any standards at all. After all, it could be seen up there on the moon by those who dwelt upon the Earth, so it must be enormous. And then Liu Hai had used it as a steed, so it must be at least the size of a horse.
Immortals were shaped by myth and legend. That was part of what made them so powerful.
“Pretty, pretty, pretty …” the Toad croaked, or something very like that. Pearl’s ward was one that granted unnoticeability along with protection from intrusion, but the toes on the Toad’s three legs had suction-cup pads and stuck to her ward as if it were a crystal globe and they the memories held within.
“Want the pretty, pretty, pretty …” the Toad clarified. His mouth was very wide, and the warts on his bumpy skin oozed little droplets that Pearl knew were a poison that caused heart palpitations and paralysis.
Pearl fed a little more ch’i to strengthen the wards, retaining sufficient to sustain her control over the winds and dragons when she summoned them. Then she ran her thoughts over the shape of her spell and found it ready.
She planned to summon the red dragon of the center, since its symbol was the walls around the world. She would then augment it with all four winds. The fourth wind would be the weakest, since it would only be represented by a pair, but that couldn’t be helped. She chose east for this weak wind, because east was the gentlest of the winds, and because she had plans for the others.
Pearl imagined her spell with the red dragon in the middle, an extra wall coiled around her wards, surrounded by the four winds. At her command, the spell came to life, and the Toad found itself buffeted. The cold of the north wind blew from above, making the Toad sluggish. The heat of the south wind dried the Toad’s damp flesh without warming, for the east and west winds dove between, creating a barrier between the extremes, rocking the Three-Legged Toad back and forth on its now unsteady footing.
With the casting of her spell, Pearl also brought herself out of awareness of the office room where her body stood and into a place where she could direct what she envisioned. This was not something she did often, for it was easy to become quite lost, forgetting the connection to one’s own body until one lacked the ch’i to return. This time Pearl felt she must take the risk. This was not a battle to be directed from the rear.
She steered her winds, causing the north to nip harder, the south to burn hotter, but the Toad did not give up and permit itself to be driven away. Banishment was all Pearl dared hope to achieve. The Three-Legged Toad was an immortal creature, and as such had remarkable tenacity, even against banishment.
Destroying an immortal was not only beyond Pearl’s powers, but also would probably have repercussions so horrible that she’d wish that the Toad had devoured them all in the first place.
The winds were doing their best, but the Toad was not about to give up on its prize. Pearl stirred the red dragon from its passive role as protector of the house. It glowered at the Toad and breathed scalding steam, but the Toad only pawed more fiercely against the wards.
“Home! Home! Home!” it wailed, its croaking voice full of fear and longing. So potent was its despair that Pearl’s wards began to buckle.
Pearl had feared this very problem might occur as soon as she had realized what Brenda had inadvertently summoned. The Three-Legged Toad was only one of the denizens of the moon. Perhaps of the most powerful of all the moon’s inhabitants was the Hare who pounded out the Elixir of Immortality with a gigantic mortar and pestle. The Hare’s skills were so great that almost everything that came from the moon ended up immortal, a fact that had caused considerable trouble to gods and heroes throughout the ages.
Prolonged existence did not guarantee great intelligence, however, and the Three-Legged Toad was far from the most brilliant of creatures. Its early attacks had sufficiently weakened Pearl’s wards so that now it could sense Nissa within. It mistook her Rabbit aura for that of its familiar friend and neighbor. Why should it travel through the fearful void when the moon was so close? The moon must be close, the Toad’s logic went, otherwise the Toad would not scent the Hare.
Bitterly, Pearl realized that far from driving the Toad away, so far all she had succeeded in achieving was to make the Toad all the more desirous of getting through her wards to where, in addition to something fascinating and shiny, it would find itself safely at home.
Pearl did not dare drop the All Winds and Dragons spell and try another, for the Toad had perforated her wards in countless places. As of now, the only thing that was keeping the Toad out was the entwined coils and snapping jaws of the red dragon.
Up to this point, Pearl had used only her own ch’i, planning to save Brenda’s and Nissa’s for the other two spells that must be worked. However, there was no helping it. If she did not succeed here, there would be little need for the other two spells. Not only would her wards fail and let the Toad through, but before long the mystic disturbance was certain to bring others. Some would be kept away because they would not wish to challenge the Toad, but others would lurk around the fringes, ready to pick at whatever was left.
“I am ready. Knit!” Pearl said, keeping her tones level with tremendous effort. She felt the young women’s ch’i race into her, each following its own strand. By great good fortune, the two had chosen almost identical patterns for their spells, so that Pearl could absorb the energy without any confusion.
Brenda apparently had problems remembering the character for five, while Nissa had a perfect sequence, but other than the elimination of five in one spell and the inclusion of eight, they matched seamlessly.
As the twinned ch’i flooded to augment her own, Pearl felt her faltering control restored. Very well, since she could not drive the Toad away, she must take a lesson from Liu Hai and lure it.
Tiger occupies a nearly unique place among the creatures of the Chinese zodiac, for it is also assigned a role as guardian of one of the four directions—Guardian of the West. Only Dragon is also sign and guardian—in its case of East. This is why one is the greatest of warriors, the other the greatest of wizards.
Pearl called west wind to come away from teasing the Three-Legged Toad. It lopped over to her, taking the form of a great white tiger with eyes of shining blue. It rubbed against her, and she spared a moment to scratch it behind one elegant ear.
“We’re going to lead that Toad on a chase,” she said, and shaped in her mind an unplanned spell. “Carry me away from my house, but make sure Toad sees us. The other winds will encourage him to follow, and the red dragon will protect the house.”
The White Tiger who was the west wind purred agreement with this plan, and Pearl threw her leg over his flank. She had forgotten she was a woman closer to eighty than seventy, and that she stood on a carpeted floor in a house in San Jose, California. Here she felt the White Tiger’s fur against her hands and brushing her feet, felt the plushness of it, even through her clothing.
Pearl’s heart raced with exhilaration. When the Toad noticed the motion of her departure, she quickly worked another spell. This one was called White Opal, and was somewhat kin to the spell Brenda had done, although not nearly as complex. This one relied on a tiny white dragon to add flash and sparkle to an array of dots. As Pearl had hoped, the already befuddled Toad was attracted to the White Opal as it had been attracted to Liu Hai’s gold coin.
“Pretty, pretty, pretty,” the Toad croaked, hopping after Pearl and her White Tiger. “Moon, moon, moon. Home!”
The pursuit went on, long and harrowing. The Toad was as large as a horse, large as a mountain. Their road took them up an uneven spiral stair, each tread of shimmering stars, and although they must flee or be swallowed, they must also keep the Toad close lest he be drawn back along the trace and resume his battering of the wards that protected Pearl’s house.
They were climbing the stars of the Sieve when the Toad gained upon them, coming so close that its long tongue lashed out and grasped the trailing length of the White Tiger’s tail, wrapping around it as it might have around a worm. The White Tiger slowed, and slashed out with a hind foot, but a tiger does not kick as effectively as a horse does. All his attempt to free himself did was cause the tiger to stumble, so that the Toad reeled more of the tiger and his passenger closer to that gaping maw.
Pearl felt for her sword and found it in her sash, just as it should be. She had no desire to slay the immortal Toad, for she knew that the ramifications of such an act would reverberate down the generations. Even more, however, she had no desire to be swallowed. Unsheathing the blade, she kept her hand steady—not an easy task while clinging to the still striving White Tiger with only her knees—and pricked the Toad several short, sharp jabs along its extended tongue.
Shedding drops of blood that glimmered and broke, rubies with hearts of poison, the tongue lashed back into the Toad’s mouth. The White Tiger of the West sprang forward so fast that Pearl had to beg it to slow.
“Honored One, it would not do to lose the Toad now, not after we have come so far.”
And the White Tiger slowed in reply, although she could feel its grumbling through her clasped knees.
Pearl made certain that the Toad was well away from her house before she threw the White Opal in the direction of the real moon that glimmered in the sky.
The White Opal soared, the eager trio of winds buoying it up. The Three-legged Toad hopped after the ersatz moon, using star formations as ladders. Pearl could feel when it moved safely out of range, forgetting the “pretty” that had drawn it down from the moon.
Pearl also could sense that the White Tiger wanted to join the chase, as cats will chase a rolling ball of yarn, but she could not spare it to join the fun.
“Back to my house,” she said, scratching it between the ears. “I must reestablish the wards.”
The White Tiger carried Pearl, not quite obediently, but with a certain friendliness that came from family feeling between Tigers.
As Pearl sought to keep her balance on the racing White Tiger, she realized that she was weaker than she had imagined. Nissa and Brenda continued to feed her ch’i, but ch’i was only energy—it could not substitute for concentration, and Pearl had already stretched her own tissue thin. White Opal and All Winds and Dragons were not like the little spells she had done when Foster had attacked her in her room in Virginia. Both were major summonings, and her immortal opponent had demanded all her attention.
Pearl realized that she wasn’t going to be able to work the final spells, that if she tried, she might even leave the household in a worse situation than before. She must release her summonings properly, then, maybe, just maybe, she could direct Nissa and Brenda to finish the job.
Pearl kept her focus as she slid off the White Tiger’s back and went through the ritual that politely and correctly terminated the summons that kept the winds and dragons in her thrall. With her last iota of control, she slid back into her body, only to feel it collapse onto the thick carpet on her study floor.
“Pearl!” Brenda heard herself scream, and at the same moment she became aware that the ch’i she had been feeding through her Knitting was damming up.
Only then, as if coming out of a dream, did Brenda see that Pearl Bright had collapsed. Nissa was already down on her knees, her hand at Pearl’s wrist.
“She’s alive. Get me some water. Then run upstairs to Pearl’s medicine cabinet and see if you can figure out what medication she’s on. Look especially for any sign that she has heart trouble.”
When Brenda came back with the water, Pearl was conscious and whispering to Nissa who cradled the older woman semi-upright in her arms. Actually, Pearl wasn’t whispering. Those rasping tones were as much as the normally resonant voice could manage.
“ … in excellent shape for my age. I take something for my blood pressure, and something for cholesterol, but stress tests show my heart is just fine.”
Pearl stopped to sip from the water Brenda held out to her.
“More important to get the other spells in place than to get me to bed. My wards are a mess. They need to be strengthened, even before we work Confused Gates. Can you do Sparrow’s Sanctuary?”
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