Dragonkeeper 2: Garden of the Purple Dragon (29 page)

Hope filled Ping’s heart. Someone had come to her rescue. She felt her strength return.

But the necromancer blocked the spear with his arm, he met the sword blade with his knife, the fireballs fell short of their mark. The necromancer passed his hand through the air and the mist evaporated. He laughed when his attackers were revealed. Dong Fang Suo and Jun were sprawled on the ground, half of Hua’s tail was missing. Kai was crouched among the bamboo canes, looking small and frightened, a wisp of mist trailing from his mouth.

Ping’s hope had evaporated as quickly as the mist. So this was Danzi’s power of five—a girl with her hands
tied, an old man, a boy, a rat and a small dragon. The old dragon had had no idea how powerful the necromancer had become.

Dong Fang Suo stood up.

“Take my liver instead,” he said.

“Why would I want your feeble old liver,” the necromancer sneered, “when I can have the liver of a young Dragonkeeper?”

Ping could hear small movements around her head. Fur and whiskers brushed against her bound hands. The ropes around her wrists began to loosen. Rats were nibbling through them. The last wisps of mist hid them from the necromancer, but Ping could see them. They were ordinary-sized rats, like the ones she’d seen on the barge.

“She doesn’t deserve to die,” Dong Fang Suo said.

“Yes she does.” There was bitter hatred in the necromancer’s voice. “She stole the dragon stone from me. She humiliated me at Wucheng.”

“This power that you get from the livers of the dead,” Dong Fang Suo said, “it is only short-lived.”

The rats were now gnawing through the ropes that tied Ping’s ankles.

“There are plenty more livers in the Empire,” the necromancer snarled. “Leave, old man. Your day is over.”

“I know the source of your power,” Dong Fang Suo said. “The liver is the house of the eternal soul—the
soul that flies to Heaven when someone dies.”

The old magician wasn’t just stalling so that the rats could free her, Ping realised he was trying to tell her something.

“When you cut the livers from living men and sew them into your own body …

“I’ve heard enough of your prattle,” the necromancer said.

He turned abruptly, raised his knife again and plunged it toward Ping. She rolled out of the way and the blade dug deep into the earth.

Jun had the mirror in his hand. He angled it so that a beam of bright, white moonlight shone in the necromancer’s eye. He turned to attack the boy, but Dong Fang Suo tripped him with the shaft of the spear. Hua ran up the necromancer’s back. The necromancer let out a scream. He dropped the knife and tried to pull the rat off. Hua jumped down with the man’s ear lobe between his sharp yellow teeth. The necromancer grabbed what remained of his ear, blood pouring through his fingers.

The necromancer turned with fury in his one eye and glared at Jun. The boy was transfixed by his stare, unable to move. The necromancer raised his hand and blasted Dong Fang Suo into the air like a leaf. The old man crashed back down to earth like a sack of bones. The necromancer was stronger than the power of five. Ping knew that she would have to face him alone, but
she needed something to shield her from his awesome power. The jade vest was lying at her feet. She picked it up and slipped it on.

The necromancer turned to face Ping.

“Cut him,” Dong Fang Suo gasped, struggling to his knees. “Cut the scars.”

Ping dived for the knife, grasped it in her hand. She understood what she had to do. The necromancer focused his gaze on the knife in Ping’s hand. It turned red hot and she was forced to drop it.

“Iron hurt Kai,” said a voice in Ping’s head.

The little dragon, still glowing in the light of the full moon, was at her feet. Ping kicked the knife away.

“Don’t need knife. Have Kai.”

She remembered how she had cut her own flesh. She had just the tool she needed. As she bent to pick up Kai, the necromancer grabbed hold of the glowing knife and hurled it at her. Dong Fang Suo lunged forward. The red-hot knife pierced the old man’s chest and he fell.

Ping took hold of the dragon’s left forepaw. She ran at the necromancer and with Kai’s longest talon sliced open one of the healed scars on the necromancer’s belly. The necromancer roared with pain and anger. Black blood and pus spurted from the scar. A putrid smell filled the air. He directed his power at her. It knocked her off her feet, but it had weakened and the vest protected her. He picked up Jun’s sword and swung it at her. Ping focused her own power and knocked it aside.

“The other scars, Ping,” Dong Fang Suo gasped.

Ping slashed another scar on his belly and another. The stench was terrible. The necromancer sank to his knees as lumps of greenish, rotten liver oozed out of the cuts and slid to the ground.

Ping saw the glint form in his eye. She crouched down to avoid his stare, scraped up a handful of dirt and threw it into his face. His arms lashed out blindly and tried to push her aside, but his power was fading and Ping had the strength to resist. The air around him distorted as he tried to shape-change, but he couldn’t do it. Kai’s black talon cut the thread that held together the edges of the newest wound. A piece of fresh liver was wedged in the cut. Ping hooked it out with the talon. The necromancer slumped forward on his hands and knees.

A sudden unnatural gust of icy wind spiralled around Ping, blowing dirt and leaves into her eyes. The wind blew around her and through her, chilling her heart. A sound like a screech of anger filled the air.

Dong Fang Suo was weak, but he was still alive.

“Dig a hole, Ping,” he whispered. “Quickly. Souls that have been denied a place in Heaven create the angriest ghosts. Bury the pieces of liver.”

Ping put Kai down at a safe distance and gouged a hole in the earth, scraped the grizzly meat into it and covered it over.

Dong Fang Suo muttered a prayer, asking the eternal
souls of the angry ghosts to find their way to Heaven.

The screech trailed off into a sigh of relief and then faded away completely. The wind died but the air remained icy. Ping didn’t know who the necromancer’s other three victims were, but she prayed they had an easy journey to Heaven.

Heavy clouds blotted out the night sky completely. With the moonlight gone, Kai no longer glowed.

Ping hugged him close. “Are you all right?”

He nodded.

“Fatso not all right,” he said.

Ping went over to the broken body of the old magician. Blood soaked the front of his gown. She looked into his eyes and knew he wouldn’t live.

The necromancer was still on his hands and knees. Jun looked at him with disgust.

“You must kill him,” Jun said. “He will always be evil.”

Ping shook her head. “No. Heaven decides the time to live and die.”

Dong Fang Suo nodded slowly.

“What will we do with him?” Ping asked.

“Let him go,” the Imperial Magician said. “He has sealed his fate with his own hands. The rotting flesh has poisoned his body. He will die soon enough without your assistance.”

The necromancer struggled to his feet. Ping could see now that it wasn’t the moonlight that was responsible
for the grey pallor of his skin. That was its actual colour. The rotten smell wafted from his poisoned body with every movement. When he looked at Ping, there was no magical glint in his one eye, just fear and defeat. He limped off into the bamboo grove, bent and broken, like an old man.

Ping crouched down beside Dong Fang Suo.

“He is losing his life’s blood,” she said to Jun. “See if you can find some moss to staunch the bleeding.”

Jun hurried off into the darkness.

“Don’t concern yourself with me,” Dong Fang Suo whispered.

Ping took his hand. “I misjudged you,” she said. “I blamed you for everything.”

“I made many mistakes. I was too afraid of losing my imperial position to oppose the Emperor and his scheme to gain immortality. I didn’t try to stop him when he wanted to kill you, when he started bleeding Kai. It did me no good. He still turned against me.”

Jun knelt beside Ping and handed her some moss. She placed it over the wound.

“On the barge, I heard the necromancer tell the Emperor that he intended to cut out your liver.” Ping had to lean close to hear what the old man was saying. “I had to try and put things right. Jun wanted to help.”

Ping turned to Jun.

“I thought you wanted to be Dragonkeeper.”

The boy shook his head.

“Not when I saw what the necromancer had done to Kai,” Jun said, “I knew I couldn’t defeat him, but I hoped you could, Ping.”

“And you told Kai what you were planning?”

“No. I can’t speak to Kai in my head like you do.”

Jun hung his head and wouldn’t look at her.

“But …

“I lied when I said I could understand him. In the carriage, I pretended I understood what he said. My mother made up the stories about me having second sight.” He finally looked up, peeping at Ping through his fringe. “I’m not even naturally left-handed. My parents wanted me to have the position of Dragonkeeper. When I was small, they tied my right hand behind my back to force me to use my left hand. Don’t blame them. They are poor and have many daughters.”

“But Kai knew you were a Dragonkeeper.” She turned to the dragon. “Didn’t you?”

He shook his head. “Boy play games better than Ping,” he said. “And have sweeties.”

“Sweeties?”

Jun pulled something out of his sleeve. He opened out his hand. Three red berries lay in his palm.

“It’s a trick passed down from my great-grandfather,” Jun said, his head hanging lower. “Dragons can’t resist these berries. They will always come to you if you have some up your sleeve. I’m sorry, Ping.”

“When Jun and I discussed what we could do, we
realised that Kai understood us and could help. Hua too.”

Ping leaned close to Dong Fang Suo to hear him.

“We told Kai to tell you what the plan was.”

“I misunderstood,” Ping said. “I thought everyone had turned against me, even Kai.”

She stroked the little dragon. “I was wrong. You were very brave. It was your idea to cut the scars with your talons.”

“Father said use talons,” Kai replied. “In dream.”

It had never occurred to Ping that Danzi visited Kai in dreams as well.

“I was ready to go with you, Ping, wherever your path lay, but that isn’t possible now.” Dong Fang Suo’s voice was faint, his breathing difficult. “I should have tried to stop the necromancer at Twisting Snake Ravine. I followed the Emperor’s orders blindly.”

“You gave help when it was most needed,” Ping said. “You gave your life. I’ll never forget your part in the power of five.”

Dong Fang Suo’s shallow breathing stopped.

“Bye bye, Fatso,” said Kai.

Ping closed the old man’s blank eyes. He’d died with a smile on his face. She wished she knew a prayer to help guide his soul to Heaven.

Jun held out the Dragonkeeper’s seal to Ping.

“I don’t want it,” she said. “I’m not the Imperial Dragonkeeper. There is no imperial dragon. I’m keeper
of a dragon born in the wild, who will live in freedom not in captivity. You keep the seal—as a souvenir. It’s the mirror I want.”

Jun handed her the mirror.

“I’ll take Dong Fang Suo’s body back and tell the Emperor that you have defeated the necromancer. Perhaps he’ll realise that his plans to gain immortality will bring nothing but misery.”

“Tell him that Heaven decides the time to live and die,” Ping said.

Jun nodded. “I’ll stay hidden as long as possible, to allow you time to escape.”

He lifted the Imperial Magician’s body. Jun was small and skinny, but Ping realised he had strength within that she hadn’t given him credit for. He adjusted his grip on the old man, and then walked off into the bamboo.

“Bye bye, Boy,” said Kai.

The sky was growing light, though heavy clouds kept the sun hidden. Ping felt tired and weak. She had forgotten about her injuries while she was battling with the necromancer, but now she realised that she hurt all over.

She heard squeaking. The rats who had chewed through her bonds had gathered together. Ping didn’t understand why they didn’t just run back to their home. Then she realised they were waiting—waiting for Hua.

She picked up Hua and buried her face in his soft warm fur. She wanted to tell him not to go, to beg him
to stay and help her on the next part of her journey. But she didn’t.

“Danzi sent you back to help me,” she said. “You’ve saved me many times, Hua. You’ve done your job.”

She gently put Hua down on the ground.

“I don’t know how I’ll manage without you, but you should live a proper rat life,” she said. “Go with them.”

Hua ran over and joined the other rats. He looked back at Ping.

“Goodbye, old friend,” she said.

The rats scurried off and Hua followed.

Sadness threatened to overpower her, but she didn’t have time to begin grieving for everyone she had lost. Not yet. She had to decide what to do next.

Ping tried to remember all the times she’d dreamt of Danzi. Was there anything in his messages that would help her decide where she should go?

“Kai, in your dreams, did Danzi tell you anything else?”

“Eat worms,” the dragon said.

“Worms?”

“Good for eyesight.”

“Anything else?”

“Not too many. Too many worms make Kai fart.”

The little dragon made tinkling flute sounds. The sound made Ping’s heart soar. It was good to hear the sounds of a happy dragon again.

“Also said five.”

“Five what? Power of five?”

“No. Five upside-down.”

Kai’s dreams of the old dragon were as unfathomable as hers. Kai raised his head so that Ping could scratch him under the chin.

“But you don’t like being tickled under the chin.”

“Do now.”

She scratched the little dragon, but her fingers caught in his scales. Beneath his chin he had five reverse scales, just as his father had.

“Five upside-down scales. Is that what he said?”

Kai nodded. Ping looked closer. His reverse scales were much smaller than Danzi’s.

“Is there anything behind your reverse scales?”