He brushed twiggy bits out of his hair and off his jacket and jeans. His sleeve was torn. Great—something else for his mom to be thrilled about. As he reached for his cap, he noticed that the hedge didn't look so good, either; the branches were bent and broken where he'd been dragged through.
All because of a stupid car.
"It is not a threat to us, then?" Archie had at last lowered his bow as the car disappeared from sight.
Kevin sighed. "Archer, it's perfectly safe," he said. "It's like ... like a cart that doesn't need anything to pull it." He poked at the bushes, trying to rearrange the branches so the damage wouldn't be so obvious. Good thing Archer didn't fire any arrows at the car. Someone could have gotten hurt.
"A cart," Archie responded in a low voice. "If there is nothing to pull it, how does it move?"
Kevin didn't know very much about cars. But that didn't really matter; he wasn't about to get into a technical discussion on internal-combustion engines with Archie. Gasoline ... spark plugs ... how could he explain all that? "Um, fire," he said. "There's a little fire inside it that produces energy to make the car go."
"And what could create fire in this way?" Archie asked. Then his eyes got huge. "Could it be—no, I cannot believe it," he whispered. "Is it true?"
What in the world was he thinking? "Ah, er, very clever of you to have guessed, Archer. You—you must be a really wise king."
Archie threw his shoulders back proudly. "One would not need to be a king to sense the presence of dragons," he said. "But your words are appreciated all the same."
"Dragons? You think there are dragons—" Kevin stopped, shook his head, then grinned. It was hard to stay mad at Archie. "Yeah, yeah, that's right. A little metal dragon inside each car."
"Such a world," Archie muttered softly, "to have achieved the taming of dragons." Then his face grew stern again. "And how do you know which of the dragon-carts are being commanded by enemy forces?"
"Jeez, you've got an obsession with enemies," Kevin exclaimed. What was it with Archie? Kevin didn't think he himself had a single real enemy. He had friends, and people who weren't friends. But not enemies.
"Archer, there aren't any enemies here. This is friendly territory." Oh, brother. That sounded like something out of one of those old war movies.
Archie straightened from his crouch a little. "This region has sworn allegiance to your king?"
"To my king..." Kevin paused. Not king—president? Or maybe mayor? And "sworn allegiance to"—nobody he knew ever said the word "allegiance" except in the pledge. But he had to reassure Archie or they'd never get anywhere.
"Yeah, that's right," Kevin said, "except we don't say 'king.'"
Archie stood and began to walk along the side of the hedge. He nodded at Kevin. "Titles come and go on the wind. Emperor, king, son-of-the-heavens ... you are correct, the title does not matter. What matters for the moment is that we are safe. What matters for the future is whether he is a good king."
Kevin didn't know very much about politics. But he knew that his parents liked the mayor. They had voted for him in the last two elections. On television Mayor Jackson seemed pretty much like an ordinary guy. Kevin grinned, picturing the mayor in a crown and robe. "Yes, he's a good king," he said.
They started walking. After seeing how Archie had reacted to just one car, Kevin decided to keep to the side streets as long as possible. The museum was on a major road, but they could get into the back parking lot from a smaller street. Archie couldn't seem to stop himself from flinching whenever a car went by, but at least he didn't try to hide behind anything.
Half a block passed in silence. "Archer," Kevin said timidly, "I was hoping I might seek more advice from you about magic." He was proud of that sentence—it had taken him a while to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say.
Archie gave a short nod, so Kevin continued. "You said you don't know much about it yourself, and I don't, either. But magic usually has reasons, doesn't it? I mean, magic happens because a sorceress casts a spell on somebody, or because a spirit makes something happen. I was wondering what could have happened, to bring you here."
Archie nodded again. "I have been pondering the same thing, Little Frog," he said. Drat, Kevin thought, back to Little Frog. "And because there was no sorceress anywhere near me, I have concluded it must be the spirits. Something that happened in the heavens, perhaps. What animal reigns at present?"
Animal? A second ago he was talking about emperors, now he wants to know what animal is in charge? What the heck—well, it's not little frogs, that's for sure.
Archie went on, "Is it a Dragon year, or perhaps Rooster or Snake?"
Kevin realized then what Archie was talking about—the Chinese zodiac. According to the regular zodiac, Kevin was an Aquarius; he had been born in January. But with the Chinese zodiac, the month of your birth didn't matter. It was the year that was important.
At the Jade Palace, the Chinese restaurant where his family often ate, the paper placemats were decorated with the signs and their corresponding years. There were twelve signs—twelve different animals. Kevin had been born under the sign of the Tiger.
Just a few weeks earlier, he'd celebrated his twelfth birthday at the Jade Palace with his parents and Jason. At the end of the meal, one of the waiters had hit a big metal gong, and everyone in the restaurant suddenly got quiet while the whole staff crowded around their table to sing a song. Corny, and embarrassing, and the song was in Chinese, so Kevin couldn't even understand the words. Then a waitress gave him some ice cream with a candle stuck in it. She told him it was a lucky birthday for him—that it was a Tiger year, and your birthday during a year of the same sign as the one you were born under was supposed to bring you good luck.
Kevin also knew that the Chinese New Year wasn't celebrated on January first. He didn't know how they decided on the date—something about using the lunar year instead of the solar year—but the Chinese New Year was usually in late January or early February. The waitress had mentioned that it was almost time for the New Year celebration; she said it would be a Rabbit year in exactly three weeks.
"Wait—I have to figure it out," Kevin said and thought for a moment. My birthday was January 26. Today's February 15.... He counted the days in his head; "exactly three weeks" would be February 16. "It's the year of the Tiger," he said. "But it's the very last day."
"Ah!" Archie looked excited. "I was born in the year of the Tiger. And you?"
"Me, too," Kevin said.
"And in my kingdom now, it is once again the year of the Tiger. Magic indeed!"
It sounded to Kevin more like a coincidence than magic. Besides, there was an awful lot it didn't explain. Since Archie's time there had been hundreds of Tiger years—why had the magic worked in this particular year? And millions of people were born during every Tiger year. So why Kevin?
Archie was still talking. "I, who was born in a Tiger year, was riding on a tiger, during a year of the Tiger ... and then arrived in this world during yet another Tiger year ... at the home of a Tiger-born boy, whose family honors tigers. So many tigers! This must indeed be the source of the magic."
A family that honors tigers?
"Uh, it was clever of you to notice that my family honors tigers," Kevin said, "especially because I didn't say anything about it." No question mark. He was getting really good at this.
Archie raised his head proudly. "I saw it at once," he said, "on the wall of your room. It is one of the reasons I chose to trust you."
Kevin knew right away what Archie was talking about. There was a banner on the wall over Kevin's desk for the Dorchester State University Tigers. Orange and black lettering, and a tiger's face.
That banner had something to do with bringing Archie here? His mom had given him the banner for his birthday, along with a matching sweatshirt. Both of his parents worked at Dorchester State, and he'd practically grown up on the campus.
It wasn't magic. It was just another coincidence.
"We mu
st explore this further," Archie declared. "Which of the elements reigned during the year of your birth?"
"Elements?"
"Yes. Fire, Earth, Metal, Water, or Wood?"
"Um, I don't know quite what you mean—"
"The five elements that make up the world."
"But there are way more than five elements. There are, like"—Kevin tried to remember from science class—"a hundred and something."
Archie glared at him. "Utter foolishness. Everything comes from one of the five, and returns to one of the five. There is no need to make things more difficult."
Well, at least we agree about that.
"And you have not answered my question," Archie said. "I was born twenty-four years ago, during a Fire cycle, which makes me a Fire-tiger. And you?"
"I don't know, Archer."
"How can you not know something of such importance?"
This seemed to border on an insult. Is he saying I'm stupid? He's the one who's stupid, thinking there are only five elements! Doesn't he see that everything's changed since his time? Computers and electricity and cars and science and math—
Kevin's pace suddenly slowed. No, wait. Math hasn't changed. At least, numbers haven't. I might be able to work this out....
Archie was a few steps ahead of him now; Kevin quickened his pace to catch up. "Archer, how long does a cycle last?"
"Twelve years, of course. One year for each animal of the calendar."
"And what was the order again?"
"Fire, Earth, Metal, Water, Wood."
Twelve years. Five cycles. So first he'd have to figure out the number of years between Archie's birth and his own. And then—
Then what? Divide by 12?
No, that wasn't right. Divide by 5?
Wait—that might not be right, either.
Kevin felt a familiar prickle of frustration, which happened whenever he couldn't figure out a math problem right away. It seemed to start at the back of his neck—an itchy, impatient feeling that made him want to shrug or scratch. His dad always told him to try to "see" the answer in his mind even before knowing what it was exactly. "You have to know where you're trying to go, and use the tools, the right equations, to get there. That's just as important as the answer itself."
But Kevin could never seem to "see" things the way his dad wanted him to. He'd grope around blindly in his mind until one of two things happened: He'd stumble across the answer and everything would be fine, or else he'd get so confused that the itchy feeling would spread until he wanted to jump out of his chair. He'd give up and go on to the next problem, which was almost always harder than the one before.
Kevin could already tell what was going to happen this time.
Frustration + confusion = no answer.
5. At the Museum
Kevin was about to confess that he couldn't work out which element he was when Archie grasped his arm and pulled him to a halt. "Hold a moment," Archie said, his voice suddenly anxious. "Did you say it was the last day of the year of the Tiger?"
"Yep," Kevin said. "Tomorrow starts a Rabbit year." At least he knew that much. He thought about Jason, who was a month younger than him. Kevin had once teased Jason about being a Rabbit, but Jason had pointed out that according to the Jade Palace placemat, rabbits were considered a lot smarter than tigers.
"I must return home at once!" Archie almost shouted, interrupting Kevin's thoughts. "Tiger magic is only alive during the year of the Tiger. If I do not make my journey very soon, I will have to wait a full cycle before trying again! Twelve years until another Tiger year—my kingdom will be lost, my people at the mercy of invaders!" He looked up at the sky. "There are but a few hours of sun remaining. We must hurry!"
Kevin stared, open-mouthed. Everything was happening too fast. Archie showing up out of the blue ... the window breaking ... trying to figure out who he was and how he'd gotten there. Kevin realized that up till now he'd been thinking of it almost as a game—a video game come to life. If he could figure out certain things, he'd get to go to the next level.
But it wasn't a game. Maybe it was a dream. But Kevin had already tried pinching himself, and he hadn't woken up. If it is a dream, at least it's an interesting one. Might as well see what happens. Not that I have a choice....
What if Archie was right about the Tiger magic but couldn't get back home today? Where would he go? Would he want to come back to Kevin's house? How would Kevin ever explain things to his parents?
"You must lend me your assistance," Archie was saying urgently. "You know this land far better than I. I will be forever in your debt." He dropped to his knees and bowed his head at Kevin's feet. Right there in the middle of the street.
"What the heck?" Kevin glanced around quickly, praying that no one had seen them. "I'll try and help you. That's what I've been doing all along, isn't it? Come on, get up—this is embarrassing."
Archie stood and looked Kevin right in the eye. "If you help me return to my people, my gratitude will know no bounds," he said.
The poor guy was really desperate. Kevin felt helpless for a moment. It was ridiculous—what did he know about magic or time travel or even Korean history? But he couldn't say no and leave Archie on his own. Kevin could just see it: Archie shooting arrows all over downtown Dorchester and maybe hurting someone or getting hurt himself.
He couldn't stand still any longer. He started walking again, faster this time. "The museum," he said to Archie. "There has to be something there to help us, or else...."
Or else what?
Archie seemed so anxious after learning about the date that he stopped flinching whenever a car went by. As they walked, Kevin saw that Archie seemed to be studying almost everything they passed, staring at the buildings, reaching out to touch a mailbox or a street sign. But he didn't ask any more questions.
It took them only a few minutes to reach the back parking lot of the museum.
"Archer, you're going to have to wait for me here," Kevin said. "They won't let you inside with your bow and arrows." Kevin didn't know if it was actually a rule, but he was pretty sure the museum people wouldn't be happy about Archie walking around carrying weapons in plain sight. And he knew better than to ask Archie to leave them at the coat check.
Kevin chose his next words carefully. "Please, Archer, I hope you will honor a request from me. I don't want you to go anywhere or—or do anything. Just wait for me here. I—um, I feel much safer knowing you're nearby."
That last part wasn't exactly a lie, but he thought it would make Archie more likely to stay put. If Archie started wandering around Dorchester on his own, anything could happen. Anything bad.
Kevin had guessed right. Archie stood up proudly. "You have my word. I will be here to protect you at the first sign of trouble. And be careful, Little Frog."
Kevin almost smiled—Archie was acting as if the museum was enemy headquarters. But he probably didn't know what a museum was. When had museums been invented? "I'll be okay, honest," Kevin said.
They found a bench under a window at the side of the building, but Archie refused to sit. He placed himself between the bench and the tree nearby, as if he were standing guard.
Kevin allowed himself one last backward glance. Standing so still against the side of the building, Archie probably wouldn't attract much attention. Satisfied, Kevin hurried into the museum.
Now that he was there, he felt a little shy about talking to Professor Lee. He decided to look at the exhibits first. He paid a dollar for a student's admission ticket and passed through the double glass doors. Once inside the lobby, he skimmed the map the ticket taker had given him. Worlds of Culture—that was it, that was the exhibit he remembered from a school field trip last year. It was on the second floor.
The museum wasn't too busy. No school groups, since it was after school, and not many people going up the escalator.
He stepped into the big hall on the second floor. Through the archway on his left, the Worlds of Culture exhibit began with Native North Americans
. Kevin's class had come to the museum almost every year since first grade to see that exhibit. He knew way more about the Iroquois Nations than he did about Korea.
The Americas exhibit was the biggest. Kevin hurried through its two rooms to a door at the other end—the door into Europe. Then Africa. Around one more corner and, finally, Asia.
A big exhibit on China. A smaller one on Japan. Finally, a glass wall case with a sign at the top: KOREA.
Kevin scanned the case anxiously. Hanging on the back wall was a fancy lady's dress. Near the front of the case was a black chest covered with pictures of mountains and dragons made of some shiny pearly stuff. If Kevin hadn't been in such a hurry, he might have taken a closer look at it.
There were two vases on stands at either side of the chest, a greenish one on the left and a gray one with blue designs on the right. And on the floor at the front there was a pair of red shoes that looked exactly like two miniature canoes. Kevin stared at the shoes for a moment. How could anyone get their feet into them? They weren't the least bit foot-shaped.
Then he looked at the cases on either side, but the one on the left was the last part of the Japanese exhibit and the one on the right was marked VIETNAM. So that was it for Korea. A single case with only a few things in it.
Kevin read the card in one corner of the case. The card had been printed so the explanations corresponded to the positions of the objects in the case:
TRADITIONAL KOREAN DRESS—HAN-BOK, CIRCA 1875
CELADON VASE, 12th C. PUNCH-ONG WARE, 16th C.
WOODEN CHEST INLAID WITH MOTHER-OF-PEARL,
CIRCA 1850
SILK DRESS SHOES, MID-18th C.
Useless! Kevin fumed to himself. The oldest thing there was still way too recent. And nothing at all about either Chu-mong or magic.