Song of the Mountain (Mountain Trilogy, 1)
He met her eyes. “I do not speak of beauty. Beauty cannot make another feel comfortable, accepted, and valued. Nori’s loveliness thinly veils her contempt. I was truly a fool to make such a trade.”
She smiled then, and the glimmer returned to her eyes. Song caught his breath. She looked, not beautiful, but radiant. And in her expression he saw his own worth.
He folded her hand in his own. It felt small and smooth, and their fingers fit together snugly.
Song had come home.
~
Karina heard the sobbing first, coming from the direction of Lord Dolisu’s road. Song rose to his feet, dreading whatever new horror Ju-Long had caused.
A crash sounded in the underbrush. Song took off running.
It was Nori. She lay writhing in the fallen leaves, bloodied fingers clenching and unclenching around them. Her gown was blackened and torn, the hem shredded to her knees, and her slender body convulsed with deep, wrenching sobs.
“Nori! What happened?”
Song rolled her over as Karina caught up. The girl’s face was blood-smeared and dirty, but what frightened Song more was the stark terror etched on her normally fearless features.
“Nori!” he yelled, shaking her.
Karina pushed him aside. Laying a gentle hand on her brow, she murmured, “Tell me what happened, Nori.”
“It was Asito,” she sobbed, gasping for breath. “A rebellion. He attacked the manor before dawn.” She clutched Karina’s arms and her voice rose to a wail, “He killed my father!”
And with those words, she passed out.
Chapter 21
“Let’s get her to my Grandfather,” Song ordered.
Karina jumped up. “I will get my brother. He is cutting bamboo nearby.”
Keeto ran up within minutes. “What happened?” he asked, scooping the girl easily into his arms.
“The manor has been attacked. Lord Dolisu’s captain has risen against him.”
Keeto stopped, fixing him with a peculiar look. “Is Lord Dolisu well?” he asked.
“He is dead.”
Keeto moved briskly up the mountain path despite his burden, and Nori was soon laid on a mat inside the hut. Song quickly told Grandfather what Nori had said.
Grandfather sadly shook his head. “The Elder is stuck down,” he whispered. “Asito, then, is the younger brother. In twelve years, I have never seen one clue.”
Song slowly raised his eyes. “I have.”
Grandfather pulled him a little apart from the others. “What do you mean?”
Song paused to remember. “Little things. A look. A tone of voice. I did not trust him.”
“These are inconclusive,” Grandfather dismissed. “There are many dishonorable men.”
“But he spoke to me once. He warned me that you are not what you seem. And his sword,” he went on. “Instead of carrying the seal of Lord Dolisu, it bore only the sickle and no star.”
“Death without life,” Grandfather whispered to himself. “Of course the seal would have drawn Asito’s attention. Lord Dolisu made no secret of it. It would have led Asito straight to him, even as it led me.”
The old man’s eyes sparked with sudden annoyance. “Why did you never tell me these things before?”
“They were just impressions. I did not know to question him,” Song said in his own defense. “Besides, it was foretold. Could you have prevented it?”
Grandfather relented. “Perhaps not, though I may have lessened the damage. It is too late now.”
“Grandfather,” Song asked thoughtfully, “could Asito be in league with Ju-Long? His attack came so soon after the dragon’s.”
But Grandfather shook his head. “It is more likely that Asito saw his opportunity and seized it. Ju-Long is proud, and he despises men. He would never ally himself with one. Not even one as wicked as Asito.”
The old man padded to the corner where he pulled several leaves from the storage pit. “I will fix something to revive the child,” he declared.
Karina sat beside Nori, washing away the blood and speaking to her softly. Keeto hovered near Grandfather, watching him with the intensity of a stalking cat. But Song sat apart from them, staring blankly out the window.
The prophecy had reached its fulfillment. Both brothers were accounted for, and Song was neither of them.
Who was he?
The steamy fragrance of herbs reached him. Grandfather brought an earthen cup to Karina. “Spoon this into her mouth,” he instructed.
Karina raised the girl’s head gently and worked a spoonful of the tea between her lips. After several moments, Nori awakened. Though she remained calm, her eyes spoke her heartbreak plainly.
Grandfather sat beside her. “Child, tell me, is Asito still alive?”
She nodded her head. “It was he who turned my father against you, to aid his own purpose.”
“You saw him unharmed?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Just before I fled.”
“Then he is still a threat. Did he see you?”
“I do not think so. I hid under—under—” She broke into silent weeping.
Grandfather closed his eyes with relief. “Then we still have a little time. Very little. We must make plans to move from here. Nori is not safe, and we may not be either.”
“But where will we go?” Song asked.
“To the forest.”
Nori sniffled, overcoming her sorrow. “Song,” she said, “I am sorry. I have lost your panda.”
“My panda?” he asked in confusion. “My carving?”
“You must have dropped it in the courtyard yesterday. I saw it as I fled and I stopped to pick it up. It was foolish, perhaps, but I felt an overwhelming need to—to give it back.”
Her eyes pleaded up at him, and Song recognized her apology. He nodded in understanding. The past was behind them.
Grandfather shot her a keen glance. “A carving, you say? Made of wood?”
“Yes, and it was just beginning to take shape,” Nori answered regretfully.
“It does not matter,” Song assured her. “I can make another.”
“I did not know you had a talent for such things,” Grandfather remarked.
Song looked embarrassed. “It is only a silly amusement.”
“That is not true!” Karina exclaimed. “I have seen his work and it is masterful. But his carvings reflect his heart, and that makes him hesitant to share them.”
Grandfather considered Song for so long the boy became uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “I think it is best that we do not linger,” he finally said. “Song, Keeto, help me carry some things.”
Song stepped forward, but Keeto was not in the hut.
“Keeto?” Grandfather opened the door and glanced outside. “Where has he gone?”
Song’s suspicions were immediately aroused. Too long had the boy been an enemy. Karina’s face turned chalky white.
“What is it?” Grandfather asked her. “Tell me what you know!”
“I know nothing, but I fear for my brother,” she whispered. “That man, Asito, has been twice to my father’s house. I have seen him speak with Keeto.”
Silence froze the small group. Hatred and bitterness burned like bile in Song’s throat. Keeto had betrayed them!
Grandfather moved first. “Go!” he called. “We must flee to the mountain!”
He threw open the locked chest and stuffed its contents in his hemp sling. The broken knife he handed to Song. “It is yours now. You are the Chosen One.”
“What do you mean?”
Grandfather drove them all across the clearing and into the woods. He no longer bothered with secrecy. “You are the seed spoken of in the prophecy! I was not certain until Nori spoke of the carvings.”
“The carvings prove nothing! I am nobody. I am not descended from either of the brothers.”
“There was a third brother.”
Song jolted to a stop.
“Keep up, child, we cannot stay here. Kintu, come!”
Song started on again, his mind struggling to take in what he was hearing.
“There was a middle son,” Grandfather continued, “neither handsome and mighty nor given to violence. He inherited his father’s skill with wood. It is he, I am certain, who fashioned the puzzle box and hid the token. This talent he has passed on to each of the great ones among his heirs.”
“Did my father work with wood?”
“No. Your father was tall, handsome and strong, and he feared nothing. I believed he was the one. I did not trust to the signs, and my folly led to his death.”
“Your folly? What do you mean?”
“I raised him as I raised you, but in passing on knowledge I exercised neither caution nor restraint. He assumed his role wholeheartedly. He lived for it, bent all his thought toward it. And when he met the dragon, though well-prepared, alas, he was not the One. And Ju-Long slew him.
“It is the reason I have been so slow to teach you. I was afraid of making another mistake, but now I fear I may have waited too long.”
“My mother?” Song asked. “What happened to my mother?”
“She died of terror and a broken heart.”
Song felt sorrow welling up for the parents he had never known. How different his life would have been had they lived! Li-Min’s mistake had also cost him dearly.
“Your father struck the dragon a severe blow that shattered the ancient blade. His bravery bought peace for twelve years, but soon, I fear, you will stand in his place on the mountain. For it has been written.”
Abject terror flooded Song’s brain. “But you will help me!” he begged.
Grandfather shook his head. “I have not been chosen. I was sent to protect, to train, to prepare the One. My job ends where yours begins.”
“But I do not know what to do! I cannot defeat Ju-Long!”
“You have faced him once already.”
Song remembered the wild run down the valley, the lifted box, the instinct that took over. He had not failed that time. The memory gave him courage.
“Use your knowledge,” Grandfather instructed him. “Everything you need you have been given.”
They followed the old man in silence for many minutes. Then Nori asked hesitantly, “Where are we going?”
“To the summit, of course. It is where our fate must be decided. It is where Zumari’s curse must end.”
Chapter 22
The climb took many hours, for Nori was weakened and slow. Song and Karina walked at either side of her, supporting her. Even Song felt dizzy with fear and lack of sleep. Grandfather stumbled in the rear with Kintu at his heels.
And as they walked in silence, fear and dread began to grow in Song’s mind. Perhaps he could face the dragon, but how could he defeat him? He had no weapon. How could he use his little store of knowledge? With his small body and short years of experience, how could he bring down one of Ju-Long’s greatness? He felt altogether inadequate.
Grandfather sensed his thoughts. “Fear,” he told him, “is of the enemy. It is his most potent weapon. He will use it to disarm you, to freeze you where you stand. Do not let yourself be stricken with it. Instead, dwell on the stories. Find your courage in their words.”
“I cannot,” he whispered.
“Then I will repeat them to you.” And as they walked, Grandfather told him again the stories recorded on his staff: of Zumari and the city of Zuminka, of the Guardian and Ju-Long’s evil plan, of Zumari’s three sons, of the token of Mutan’s promise hidden so long within the puzzle box, of the son of Pavu and the Five Great Gifts, of the secret name for the Maker of Stars. And last, he recited the prophecy:
“Mud and mire shall birth a tree;
A sprout shall grow of ancient seed.
The five unite to break the one;
The curse of man shall be undone.
But brothers rise ere dragon’s bane;
The last shall smite the first again.”
The girls listened in rapt attention, Karina hearing the stories for the first time, Nori believing them for the first time.
And Song felt his fear lessen.
The words of the prophecy. Song went over them again and again. He was the seed spoken of in the riddle, Grandfather had said, rising from obscurity. The brothers had played out according to what was written. Only the middle couplet had not been fulfilled. And on these he pondered.
The five unite to break the one;
The curse of man shall be undone.
The curse, he knew, was the consequence of Zumari’s disobedience, the long years living under the threat of Ju-Long. And Ju-Long was the one that must be broken. But the five unite? The five what?
Of course the answer was obvious. The gifts! Mutan had given Pavu’s son the gifts of water, fire, earth, wood, and metal. Hadn’t they defeated evil once before? The old story was a picture, a miniature, of the battle that was yet to come. And in the union of the gifts, Pavu’s son had found strength.
If only Song knew the secret of their power!
Just yards away from where the path broke out of the forest that crowned Kamiratan’s bald dome, Karina told them gravely, “We are being followed.”
Within minutes, the others also heard the tramp of many feet on the path behind them. They were discovered!
“It is Asito,” Grandfather said, turning on the path. “Song, take Kintu and the girls to the tree.”
“What tree?”
“The heir of the Guardian.”
The seed? It could not have grown already! But Song obeyed, pressing slowly on, guiding Nori upward.
The noise of confrontation soon followed them, and they turned to glance behind.
A score of men faced Grandfather, swords at the ready. Song saw Keeto trailing at their rear, and Asito stood at their head. “I have come to claim my inheritance,” he said. “Get out of my way, old man.”
Grandfather stood firmly in his path, garbed in his blue robe. “You may not hurt the girl.”
Asito’s smile held arrogance and malice. “Long has my line awaited this moment. Today, the wealth and blessing of my forefather will pass to me.”
“I was deceived by you, Asito. Your path merges with that of Ju-Long because your heart is infected with the same evil. Yet I offer you a warning so that you may turn from your path. Heed my words: your own destruction will come of this plan.”
The warrior’s face twisted with hatred. “Not my destruction, old fool. Only that of the girl—and the boy, for I can be Zumari’s only heir. Did you think I would not find him out? I have made this mission my life’s work. And it is written that I will succeed.”
“You are wrong. It is written only that you will raise your hand to smite, not to conquer.”
Beside him, Song heard Karina gasp, “Li-Min!”
For with his words, Grandfather revealed his true form, as it had been revealed to Song at the Keeping Stone. He stood tall and powerful. His staff was in his hand, and blue light shone around him.
The men on the path cowered in fear.
“Asito, Son of the Least, you have chosen your end!”
The soldier growled and tried to push past Grandfather. “Out of my way, sorcerer!”
Even as he spoke, the black face of Ju-Long rose from the cliff beside them.
Asito whirled, his sword drawn, and faced the monster eye to eye.
There was stillness in the forest, broken only by the beat of the dragon’s wings. Then Ju-Long let out a roar that trembled the rocks and split the trees.
Asito lunged, striking a blow on the dragon’s snout that bounced off with a clang of metal.
The dragon laughed. “Fool!” His voice was black as his scales. “I cannot be defeated with pinpricks.” And he laughed again.
Asito used the moment to rush him, jabbing the sword far up the dragon’s nostril.
Ju-Long roared with pain and fury. Eyes blazing, he rose to the height of the mountain’s crest. Then, with a graceful twist, he swooped downward like a striking eagle,
snatching the man up with huge, taloned feet.
Asito’s sword clattered to the ground. Dangling helplessly above the cliff, the struggling man groaned with terror.
“This is what will happen to the next man who threatens me,” Ju-Long growled. Beating over the valley, he dropped Asito into darkness, to the boulders far below.
The man’s followers fled to the forest, fighting one another in their panic, but Keeto stood frozen on the path, his eyes wide with horror.
Li-Min transformed into Grandfather once again and spoke gently to the boy. “Keeto, though you played a part in this evil day, you may yet change the course you have chosen. Follow me.”
Grandfather turned and saw Song and the girls still watching. “To the tree, Song!” he called. “He will be back!”
But Song’s attention was focused on Keeto, twice his enemy. And as he watched the boy accept the comfort and safety of Li-Min’s invitation, hatred froze within him. It chilled all his compassion and filled him with cold, hard fury.
“Song!” Grandfather shouted. “Your moment has come! Fly!”
Chapter 23
Song turned and ran into the clearing, leaving the others in the old man’s care. There, where he had planted the seed, stood a strong, young tree, its silhouette black against the light of the stars. He fled to it, clutching his knife and his box in trembling hands, and stood waiting, all emotion save hatred locked up cold within him.
There was a sharp flap of canvas and Ju-Long dropped onto the summit.
The dragon laughed. “Here is another one. A mere child!” His amusement burst out in a low rumble. “Do you think you can defeat me, puny human spawn? I, who have lived far beyond your comprehension of time and space? I, who came before you? I, who was displaced by you? I, who by all rights should have inherited the earth!”
He snarled and flew into the air. Twisting, he came to land behind Song. The boy whirled, his broken knife at the ready.
“Instead I was bound in torment and in agony in the wood of the Tree. But the heart of men is dishonorable, and I escaped.
“Long have I waited. Long have I gathered strength in the bowels of the earth. Long have I brooded and planned my course of action. My moment is at hand! Tonight, I will call my armies to myself!”
With that, Ju-Long beat the air with his giant wings. High above the mountain, he roared out his summons. Louder than a mighty clap of thunder, it splintered the mountain. The ground heaved, sending cascades of rock tumbling down the cliff face, and still the echoes rang out far across the Kindoli.