shadows.
Gradually the smooth lines of the terraced fields gave way to rugged hilltops, thrusting like gnarled fingers into the sky. They veered onto a path at the bottom of one such peak and started to climb slowly. The path soon narrowed, so they walked in single file, Chen Yong leading them while Li Rong guided Ai Ling on his horse.
Fully awake now as the ground below dropped sharply to her right, Ai Ling sat with her legs hugging the horse’s warm sides. After a long time of walking in silence, the path opened to a large landing. She dismounted to stretch her sore thighs, offering the horse an apple that Li Rong gave her. The horse chomped on it with enthusiasm and whinnied as she smoothed a palm over its strong neck.
“According to the map, the entrance of the cave is just around the bend,” Chen Yong said.
Ai Ling followed him while Li Rong led Feng behind her.
She saw the two torches first, carved of a deep blue stone, reaching far above her head. They were on either side of the cave entrance, which was hewn in the shape of a tiger’s head, its mouth gaping wide in a snarl. Dark green stones glittered above them, representing the cat’s eyes. Fangs jutted from the ground and from above the entrance, formed from an unfamiliar milk white stone.
100
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
“This is the last thing I would’ve expected,” Li Rong said, his head tilted up.
“Strangers approach!” A reedy voice spoke from near the cave entrance. Both brothers reached for their weapons. Ai Ling rested her own hand on her dagger.
A spray of water shot forth from one of the lotus-leaf fountains that stood on either side of the cave. The torch-light revealed water swirling in a rainbow of color. Ai Ling walked with caution toward the fountain and peered in.
Multicolored stones rested at the bottom of the shallow bowl.
“A girl with raven hair,” a voice said again. The sound came directly from the fountain.
“Stand back, Ai Ling,” Chen Yong said. Even as she did so, another plume of water erupted, landing at her feet.
“They all have raven hair, you slippery twit,” a voice war-bled from the opposite fountain.
“Not so, not so,” the first fountain replied. Ai Ling leaned over again. Another spray splashed her cheek. She yelped from the cold shock of water, then wiped away the drops as her face began to burn. Her hand tingled painfully where she had wiped her cheek.
“You got wet, did you?” Li Rong chuckled.
She covered her cheek with one hand. “The water stings,”
she said, unable to explain the pain beyond that.
Chen Yong gently pulled her hand aside to examine her face, while Li Rong held the gilded lantern close. “It bores 101
Cindy Pon
a hole into the skin,” Chen Yong said, his voice quiet with shock.
“What?” Ai Ling asked. Tears streaked down her face.
The pain was so intense she could barely think. She was too afraid to touch the wound and turned her face from the young men.
“I see you have met my water pets,” said a voice from within the cave.
A thin man approached with a torch in one hand. He wore his white hair in a single queue and a square gold cap on his head. He was attired in robes of the same color, a sash of bright crimson tied at the waist. Silk pouches in various colors hung from it.
“Come, Ai Ling. Let us apply the antidote to your cheek before you lose part of that pretty face . . . and more.” His commanding presence discouraged any questions as they followed him into the cave. She stumbled as her tears blinded her, biting her lip hard to keep from sobbing aloud.
Chen Yong took her elbow and guided her.
The man pulled a jar from the cave wall as if he had conjured it. He pinched something between two long fingers, stepped up to Ai Ling, and rubbed the substance into her cheek. “Did the water touch you elsewhere?” he asked.
She showed him her hand, and he pinched more thin flakes from the clear jar and applied them to her burning fingers. “The pain
Gradually the smooth lines of the terraced fields gave way to rugged hilltops, thrusting like gnarled fingers into the sky. They veered onto a path at the bottom of one such peak and started to climb slowly. The path soon narrowed, so they walked in single file, Chen Yong leading them while Li Rong guided Ai Ling on his horse.
Fully awake now as the ground below dropped sharply to her right, Ai Ling sat with her legs hugging the horse’s warm sides. After a long time of walking in silence, the path opened to a large landing. She dismounted to stretch her sore thighs, offering the horse an apple that Li Rong gave her. The horse chomped on it with enthusiasm and whinnied as she smoothed a palm over its strong neck.
“According to the map, the entrance of the cave is just around the bend,” Chen Yong said.
Ai Ling followed him while Li Rong led Feng behind her.
She saw the two torches first, carved of a deep blue stone, reaching far above her head. They were on either side of the cave entrance, which was hewn in the shape of a tiger’s head, its mouth gaping wide in a snarl. Dark green stones glittered above them, representing the cat’s eyes. Fangs jutted from the ground and from above the entrance, formed from an unfamiliar milk white stone.
100
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
“This is the last thing I would’ve expected,” Li Rong said, his head tilted up.
“Strangers approach!” A reedy voice spoke from near the cave entrance. Both brothers reached for their weapons. Ai Ling rested her own hand on her dagger.
A spray of water shot forth from one of the lotus-leaf fountains that stood on either side of the cave. The torch-light revealed water swirling in a rainbow of color. Ai Ling walked with caution toward the fountain and peered in.
Multicolored stones rested at the bottom of the shallow bowl.
“A girl with raven hair,” a voice said again. The sound came directly from the fountain.
“Stand back, Ai Ling,” Chen Yong said. Even as she did so, another plume of water erupted, landing at her feet.
“They all have raven hair, you slippery twit,” a voice war-bled from the opposite fountain.
“Not so, not so,” the first fountain replied. Ai Ling leaned over again. Another spray splashed her cheek. She yelped from the cold shock of water, then wiped away the drops as her face began to burn. Her hand tingled painfully where she had wiped her cheek.
“You got wet, did you?” Li Rong chuckled.
She covered her cheek with one hand. “The water stings,”
she said, unable to explain the pain beyond that.
Chen Yong gently pulled her hand aside to examine her face, while Li Rong held the gilded lantern close. “It bores 101
Cindy Pon
a hole into the skin,” Chen Yong said, his voice quiet with shock.
“What?” Ai Ling asked. Tears streaked down her face.
The pain was so intense she could barely think. She was too afraid to touch the wound and turned her face from the young men.
“I see you have met my water pets,” said a voice from within the cave.
A thin man approached with a torch in one hand. He wore his white hair in a single queue and a square gold cap on his head. He was attired in robes of the same color, a sash of bright crimson tied at the waist. Silk pouches in various colors hung from it.
“Come, Ai Ling. Let us apply the antidote to your cheek before you lose part of that pretty face . . . and more.” His commanding presence discouraged any questions as they followed him into the cave. She stumbled as her tears blinded her, biting her lip hard to keep from sobbing aloud.
Chen Yong took her elbow and guided her.
The man pulled a jar from the cave wall as if he had conjured it. He pinched something between two long fingers, stepped up to Ai Ling, and rubbed the substance into her cheek. “Did the water touch you elsewhere?” he asked.
She showed him her hand, and he pinched more thin flakes from the clear jar and applied them to her burning fingers. “The pain
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