The Ghost Bride (26 page)

Chapter
30

I
gave
Chendana her head, telling her only to take me to the mouth of the tunnel. The
streets of ghostly Malacca appeared and disappeared before my eyes; the houses
faded in and out of one another like wraiths. At this time of night, some were
darkened shells while others were lit with a blaze of lamps, as though grand
parties were celebrated within. One house was on fire, but though flames licked
the rafters, the framework of the house never collapsed. At one point, I could
have sworn we galloped right by the Stadthuys, then turned a corner only to find
ourselves advancing on it again. There was little traffic on the roads. The
faces of the dead glanced at me as we passed them, some surprised, others bored
and incurious. When we had passed the harbor, where ghost ships bobbed on a sea
of grass, I became afraid that we would never be able to leave, but suddenly we
were out on the endless plains again.

A strong wind blew, chilling me through my
inadequate clothing. How I wished now for some of the bulky garments that I had
discarded! But Chendana was running like a horse that scents freedom. Her sturdy
legs pounded the ground and the stiff grass flew by below us. Above was the dark
vault of the sky. I could neither see nor hear any signs of pursuit, but a heavy
dread lay upon my heart. Something was coming; it was only a matter of time
before it found me. As we galloped tirelessly, I was aware of how easily we
could be seen among the silvery dried grass. My thoughts flickered back to Tian
Bai. I felt if only I could look into his eyes again, I would know what sort of
person he was. It was no use telling myself I was being ridiculous; my heart
refused to obey my mind. Indeed, the desire to see him seemed to grow in
proportion with the suspicion that lay coiled within me.

After a time I grew weary. Terrified of falling
off, I wound my arms and legs through Chendana’s harness. I had been afraid that
the weight of the bags would slow my little horse, but she didn’t seem to
notice. I compared her speed with the sedate pace of Fan’s rickety bearers.
Surely we were going twice, no, thrice as fast! At this rate, I might well catch
up with her before she disappeared into the mouth of that tunnel. At some point
I must have fallen asleep, for I was dimly aware of lying across Chendana’s
back, my face buried in her sweetly scented mane.

I was woken by a sudden jolt. Dazed, I raised my
head, wondering whether we had arrived at our destination. A fine line of gray
light showed on the horizon, like the embroidered border on a sleeve. The sea of
brittle grass stalks moved restlessly in the wind. Ahead lay the mountains I
remembered, where the passageway to the world of the living was. The dark jagged
maw was visible, yet it was still so far away! I couldn’t understand why we had
halted until I noticed the shimmering air in front. It thickened and curdled,
just as it had in the Lim mansion. “Er Lang!” I cried. The air quivered, but
nothing happened. I pulled out the scale and blew against its fluted edge. This
time the vapors condensed into the familiar, bamboo-hatted figure. It stood for
an instant, then crumpled forward.

With a cry, I scrambled down from Chendana’s back.
Up close, his clothing was scorched and the hem of his robe had been ripped
away.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“It appears that I overexerted myself,” he
said.

Despite his cool tone, he doubled over, pressing a
hand to his side. There were ominous stains on his clothes and his forearms were
scored with welts. As I stared at them, it occurred to me that his was the first
blood that I had seen besides my own in the Plains of the Dead. Even Auntie
Three (for I couldn’t help thinking of my mother by this name) had only pale,
bloodless wounds when her arms had been burned.

“Let me see,” I said, but he avoided me with a
slight movement.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he said sharply.
“These are wounds of the spirit. I must get back to my body in order to heal
them, and so should you. But that’s beside the point. You have very little time
left. I delayed them as long as possible, but they are coming now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said with irritation, “that you
should get on that horse and ride as fast as possible. I managed to find your
friend. She was about to enter the passageway, but I persuaded her to wait.
She’s there now, can you see?”

I squinted into the distance and saw, by the dark
opening, a white speck that could have been Fan’s dress. “You went there and
came back just to tell me that?”

“Stop asking foolish questions and go!”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll stay in case they come.”

“You can’t possibly stay here! You’re too
weak.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.

Ignoring him, I glanced back at my little horse.
“Help me!” I said to her. She came and knelt so that I could drag Er Lang across
her back.

“It will slow you down,” his voice was growing
faint.

“Then I’ll just get rid of this meat,” I said.
Quickly, I dragged the saddlebags off, slashing at the knots with Er Lang’s
scale. The sacks tumbled onto the ground and I began to shake them out, wincing
at the bloodless joints of meat, offal, and flaps of skin that my mother had
packed. I scattered them haphazardly, throwing some of the smaller pieces
farther away. It occurred to me that I should keep a few of them with me just in
case. Er Lang hadn’t said what was pursuing me, but I had an uneasy feeling that
it might be carnivorous. Hastily, I scrambled onto Chendana’s back but as I did
so, Er Lang began to slide off. I realized then that he had lost
consciousness.

“Get up!” I shrieked, dragging at his arms.
“Hurry!”

He grimaced but managed to hold on to the girths.
Chendana began to gallop in earnest. I was thankful again that she was not a
real horse. Her gait was steady enough so that I could just hang on to Er Lang
as he slumped behind me. It was far more difficult than I had thought. He was
heavier than me and kept sliding backward. I wound my arms around him, feeling
the muscles of his lean torso tense in pain. It was then that I remembered the
cords that had tied the saddlebags. Using a few lengths, I tied him as best as I
could to myself, the ropes cutting in across my shoulders as we were bound back
to back. Several times, I was sure that we would both fall off, but miraculously
we remained seated.

The mountains in front were clearer, but I realized
that it was also because it was getting brighter. The cover of darkness that had
felt so comforting was beginning to dissipate. It was hard to describe the agony
of that ride. Er Lang must have fainted again, for he began to slip. With every
jolt, I felt his limp body shift away and I strained to counterbalance his
heavier weight. After a while, I felt a warm trickle on my neck and putting my
hands up, found them stained with blood. For a moment I thought that the ropes
had cut into my flesh, but it soon became apparent that it wasn’t my blood. He
must have been more seriously wounded than I had thought. I reached behind me to
grasp his waist and he came to with a cry of agony.

“We must stop! You can’t travel like this!”

“I told you to leave me,” he said.

“Can you go back? Can you disappear through the air
again?” I shouted at him, against the rushing wind.

“Not enough
qi
,” he
mumbled. “Just dump me here.”

“I won’t!”

“You fool.”

“Who’s the fool?” I said angrily. “You should just
have gone away.”

“Then you would have missed your friend Fan.”

“Who cares?” I shrieked. “And take that stupid hat
off! It’s cutting into my neck.”

He began to laugh weakly. “What a harridan you are.
How could I let you be devoured when there’s still so much scolding left in
you?”

“How dare you say that!” But I was secretly
relieved that he could speak again. “Now take that hat off.”

“If I remove it, you will never treat me the same
way again.” His tone was so serious that I was afraid that I had offended him.
My father too was wary of displaying his ruined face before strangers. Of all
people, I should have been more sensitive to that. Er Lang seemed to have read
my mind, for he didn’t speak again for a long time.

The sky grew ever brighter as we rushed toward the
cliffs ahead. “Hold on,” I said, “we’re nearly there.”

“No.” Er Lang’s voice was dull. “It’s too
late.”

In terror, I twisted around. He was facing backward
and I could see in the distance a dark cloud flying swiftly across the land.
“What is it?” I asked.

“They sent the birds. The flying beasts.”

F
ar
away I could see them gathering, those strange creatures that had flown over our
camp that first night on the Plains of the Dead. I remembered how Fan had fallen
to the ground, trembling and weeping at their approach, their swift flight
slicing the air with triangular wings. At first they were no more than a faint
cloud in the distance, but with frightening rapidity they began to advance,
their forms becoming crisper and darker in the morning light.

“Run! Run as fast as you can!” I cried to my
horse.

In response, Chendana sprang away at an even
greater pace. I could barely hold on to the pommel of the saddle and would
surely have fallen if Er Lang had not gripped me from behind.

“Cut the ropes!” he hissed.

“You’ll fall off!”

“I won’t!”

Indeed, he seemed much stronger than before and I
was amazed at his stamina. Now the mountains were racing to meet us. With every
moment that passed they loomed larger. I could clearly pick out Fan’s tiny
figure, like a paper doll at the entrance to the tunnel. She turned as if to go
in, but hesitated. I was terrified that she would leave without me. Twisting
round, I glanced again at the birds, expecting them to be almost upon us, but to
my surprise they had halted. They wheeled around, swooping and diving in
confusion.

“The meat,” said Er Lang. “It was a good idea.”

I opened my mouth to say that it was my mother’s
foresight, not mine, when I remembered the last saddlebag that I had kept.
Leaning over, I pulled the cord open with my teeth, scattering the stiff gobbets
of flesh as we rode. I hoped this would delay them enough for us to reach the
tunnel, but when I looked back, only a few stragglers remained behind. The main
body of the flock was flying rapidly now, streaming toward us with every flick
of those unnatural wings. I could not imagine their speed, for they must be many
times faster than Chendana to gain on us like this.

“Let me loose!” Er Lang was struggling again, and
his attempts to free himself from the ropes that bound us together threatened to
plunge both of us from the horse. I tugged the scale he had given me out of my
pocket, then paused.

“Why?” I screamed.

“Just do it!” He grabbed my hand and with a swift
movement, sliced away the ropes.

“What are you doing?” I cried, but in an instant he
was free. I thought he said something, but I barely heard it because the birds
broke upon us like a storm.

W
ith
piercing, mewling cries, they fell on us like starving creatures. There was
nothing but leathery wings, staring eyes, and sharply serrated beaks. They were
like no birds I had ever seen before, with scythe-like claws. The sky was
blotted out. I couldn’t even cry out with the fierceness of their onslaught. A
talon raked across my face as I cowered behind Er Lang, clinging to his body
instinctively as a barrier against them. Then he was changing, his form writhing
and contorting even within my astonished grasp. I couldn’t hold him anymore.
Smooth scales slid beyond my hands, his body too large to be encompassed. I
caught glimpses of a pearl-like sheen, a thousand slippery plates sliding past
one another in an endless loop, then an enormous head, the eyes shining like
lamps and the teeth gleaming in a whiskered jaw. He rose up into the sky,
shaking and snapping at the flock, curling back on his snakelike length and
slashing with his claws. A great dragon, a
loong
,
lord of the water and air. I watched in bewilderment as Chendana carried me away
at a frantic gallop, staring up at the battle that now raged high above me.

The birds mobbed him, diving and tearing
rapaciously. At first I thought he had the advantage, for several fell,
broken-winged and crippled, but there were so many more of them. I could hardly
see him for the black shapes that ravaged him, ripping mercilessly until gouts
of dark blood stained the pearl white sides. I cried out in horror, but even as
I did so the struggle moved ever farther from my sight, so that I could hardly
make out the details anymore. I realized then that even as I rode toward the
cliffs, he must have been flying in the opposite direction. “Stop!” I screamed,
but for once my little horse ignored me, bearing me swiftly out of danger. They
were now so far I could barely spy them, a smudged cloud on the horizon.
Suddenly, the mass of wings dropped from the sky. It was no longer a battle. It
was carnage. I covered my face and wept.

W
e
reached the mouth of the cavern without further incident. My face was covered in
blood and tears, my clothing torn and shredded. The gash over my forehead had
bled copiously and I had done little to stanch the flow. More than once I had
tried to turn back, but it was to no avail. Chendana would not heed me; I
wondered whether it was a natural instinct to preserve her mistress, or whether
Er Lang had said something to her so that his sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain. I
would never know.

When I dismounted, Fan was standing there waiting
for me. She was one of the last people I wished to see, but there was no hope
for it. Staring at my bedraggled appearance, she said, “You lied to me.”

I barely had the heart to nod at her.