Silver Phoenix (28 page)

Cindy Pon

the length of it in its entirety, the underbelly gleaming in shades of blue, turquoise, and green, just like the changing seawater itself. Its length was incalculable by sight, but seemed to stretch over half the distance between the island and where they stood.

No one spoke. They craned their necks to the sky and knew what they saw. A dragon flew toward them, wingless and ushered by clouds. It sliced through the air more gracefully than any bird. When it was above their heads, it began to circle, almost spiraling on its own length as if dancing.

Ai Ling could see four feet and gold talons. It drifted downward, escorted by cloud wisps that clung around its tail and underbelly, until it was face-to-face with them. Ai Ling held her breath. She could sense, rather than see, Chen Yong standing frozen, his sword still raised.

The dragon snorted as if in greeting, bobbing lightly, riding the sea zephyrs beneath its belly. Its head was magnificent, the length of one man. Its eyes were luminous pearls; the eyebrows and whiskers flowed like kelp on its face, which was the color of a deep sea green. It grinned, revealing teeth as long as her dagger’s blade.

Ai Ling shivered, fear and amazement ricocheted through her. She stood entranced by the beauty of the beast, not knowing if this would be the last thing she saw.

The creature tossed its head, and she felt its spirit tug at her own. Its touch on her was pure, good. It brought to mind the dragon lore she had read in
The Book of Lands
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Beyond
. Dragons were companions to the Immortals and helped men in distress. But how much of the myth could she believe? Awed and hesitant, she extended her spirit into the beast—and the world took on an opalescent sheen. She looked at herself and the others. They were blurred, with bright halos surrounding their forms. An ancient strength coursed through the dragon, and it felt light to be within its body, despite its massive size. The dragon held a sense of protection and duty toward the three humans, who looked so diminutive and frail.

“Come. Ride.” It spoke an ancient tongue Ai Ling could barely grasp. She saw an image of herself, Chen Yong, and Li Rong soaring with the wind. Her heart sang, felt utterly free.

She glided back within her own self, the experience a soft whisper, smooth compared to the jarring snap of previous times.

“It wants us to ride on its back,” she said.

“What?” Li Rong asked. “How do you know?”

They looked at the magnificent dragon, and then turned their gazes to her as if she had morphed into a dragon herself.

“It told me,” she said.

“You never cease to surprise me.” Chen Yong sheathed his sword. “It seems as if higher powers intervene with our journey. We’ll fl y with the dragon.”

“Wait! How do we know it’s safe? We haven’t been 153

Cindy Pon

welcomed by gentle creatures during our travels,” Li Rong said. He stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword, his mouth pressed into a fi rm line.

The dragon undulated to its side, allowing Ai Ling to clamber on its back. Its scales were smooth and warm to the touch. She could feel the power of the beast beneath her palms as she steadied herself.

“I entered its spirit and know it is good. The dragon feels protective toward us.” She graced Li Rong with—she hoped—a charming smile. “Please trust me.”

Chen Yong climbed on behind her, leaving Li Rong standing alone on the jagged rock.

“The things I do for pretty women,” Li Rong muttered before getting onto the massive beast.

The dragon swept over the waves, and Ai Ling hugged its back with her thighs, fearful she would fall into the water below. This was not like riding a horse. The dragon climbed slowly into the air. She glimpsed the gold horns on its head for the first time, next to ears very similar in shape to a deer’s, but covered in rich green scales. They glided on smooth winds, and her spirit soared. There was pure joy in this fl ight, in this freedom, this world.

“Incredible,” she heard Chen Yong breathe softly behind her.

He held her at the waist with both hands. Her pulse quickened. Ai Ling wanted to lean back into him but wrapped her arms around the neck of the magnificent dragon instead.

She let the sea wind cool her hot cheeks.

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They floated above the waves toward the mist-shrouded island. As they neared, its appearance grew and changed. The parting mist sometimes revealed a high fortress wall made of gold, which then disappeared behind opaque clouds. The clouds dissipated again to show tall trees on a rocky peak.

The peak collapsed upon itself, and parting clouds next revealed a pagoda set within a lovely garden, with fruit trees and fl owers that she knew from home.

A dense fog pressed around them, cold in some spots and uncomfortably warm in others. The mist was so thick Ai Ling became disoriented, grateful for the glimpse of gold horns on the dragon and the feel of Chen Yong’s hands on her waist, gripping a little tighter. Ai Ling lost all sense of time.

Finally light filtered through the mist, and the sky glinted cerulean, bright and endless. The clouds turned soft, pearl-like.

The dragon alighted on a tall mountain suspended in midair above the waves. Golden walls stretching endlessly into the sky blocked their view, and a giant door painted the color of cinnabar stood a short distance away. The dragon was still.

“I think it wants us to dismount,” Ai Ling said.

She eased herself off, running her hands over the supple blue-green scales. Chen Yong and Li Rong climbed down after her.

“Thank you,” she said to the dragon.

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It lifted its head in acknowledgment, its kelp beard stirred by a wind she could not feel.

“We have come to where the Immortals roam,” Chen Yong said, gazing at the towering golden walls.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“The Golden Palace of the Immortals resides on the Mountain of Heavenly Peace,” Chen Yong said. “It’s surrounded by walls of gold—from
The Book of the Divine
.”

Li Rong pulled a face. “I never did do my lessons for that.”

“You didn’t do your lessons for much of anything.”

“I’m not the scholarly type. Besides, I thought that was ancient folklore—”

“Folktales of Immortals whom many Xian still pray to, offer fruit and burn incense for,” Chen Yong said.

“But country folk, poor peasants, surely,” Li Rong said.

“You judge the gods by who bows down at their altars?”

Ai Ling asked.

“I didn’t give it much thought. I . . .” Li Rong looked down and scuffed his shoe on the ground.

“We’ll learn soon if there was truth to those folktales,” she said.

They walked toward the giant doors. They towered so high she could not see their tops. Two creatures flanked them—a jade dragon, coiled like a snake, and a giant lion carved from jasper, with its head tilted back in a ferocious roar.

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Ai Ling glanced back at the sea dragon, but it had curled up on the ground, seemingly in the midst of a nap. She jumped, startled, as the jade dragon by the doors reared its head. The red lion relinquished its roar into the sky, so loud and thunderous it left her ears ringing. A familiar warmth washed over her breast. She looked down to find her jade pendant glowing so brightly it looked like a white star.

“Goddess of Mercy,” Li Rong said. His eyes darted from the jade dragon, extending itself to its full length, to the jasper lion, which had risen onto all fours and was shaking its unmoving mane. Two pairs of curious diamond eyes glittered at them.

“Don’t draw your weapon,” Chen Yong said. “Don’t move.”

“Are you mad? That was the last thing on my mind.” Li Rong gulped audibly.

“I don’t think they’ll hurt us,” Ai Ling said. “We were brought here by the dragon . . .”

“As their snack,” Li Rong fi nished her sentence.

Ai Ling took slow, deliberate steps toward the two creatures. A cold-hot sweat collected at her temples. They wouldn’t hurt her; she was brought by the sea dragon, which was good, protective. She opened and closed her sweaty palms, willing her arms still by her sides. Something drew her to the massive doors—she had been brought here for a reason. As she passed the magical stone beasts, both bowed 157