Thirteen Orphans (48 page)

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Authors: Jane Lindskold

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BOOK: Thirteen Orphans
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“I would prefer not,” Pearl said. “Why don’t we hold our meeting in the Rosicrucian Museum’s garden? It’s right next door, so Nissa can check on Lani. Perhaps we will have a picnic lunch.”
“Won’t we have a lot of people bothering us?” Brenda asked. “I mean, it’s a public garden.”
“It is also,” Pearl said, smiling mysteriously, “one of the most private places in all this city—perhaps on all this coastline—if you know the right charms, and it just happens that I do. The Rosicrucians will not interfere in my business, and they will assure that neutrality will be kept.”
“Weather’s not too hot,” Riprap said, “and the gardens have shade. Sure. Why not?”
“My daughter,” Righteous Drum said. “How will she find us?”
“Write her a note,” Brenda said. “Unless she has a cell phone.”
“I fear not,” Righteous Drum said, “although acquiring such did have a certain appeal. However, we were not completely comfortable with such devices.”
Brenda made a mental note to ask just how they had gotten as acclimated as they were, but this was neither the time nor place. Pearl seemed to be having similar thoughts, for she glanced around the apartment as if looking for signs of someone whose identity they did not yet know.
“Write the note,” Pearl said, “and come along. We have a great deal to talk about. And don’t try anything clever. We have had enough of cleverness.”
“As have I,” said Righteous Drum with what sounded like genuine emphasis. “As have I.”
 
 
Long, long ago, even before her father’s death, Pearl had taken it upon herself to study some of the other magical and philosophical traditions that coexisted with those her father and his friends had brought from the Lands Born from Smoke and Sacrifice.
Rosicrucianism had been only one of many. However, the friends she had made during that phase—although at first many had merely been fascinated at getting to know a still somewhat famous movie star—had remained her friends, even when Pearl’s interests moved elsewhere. She was on several committees for the museum and periodically held a place on the board of directors.
These days her involvement was largely restricted to making donations and to drawing on her rather attenuated Hollywood connections when such might benefit the museum or its lecture program. Even so, Pearl was given full run of the establishment, including public gardens that possessed some rather specialized properties. Today, she led her little band to a corner of one of the gardens, a cozy alcove adorned with a statue of Isis, a long, dark pool in which the statue contemplated her own reflection, and a blazing array of pink and orange hybrid tea roses.
Before seating herself on one of the benches, Pearl respectfully inclined her head to the representation of Isis, among whose many names was “the Mistress of Magic,” for it was under her aegis that this magically volatile conference would be held.
The benches were far more comfortable than they appeared to be at a casual glance. Although a few sparrows hopped over in quest of bread crumbs from the abundantly—if hastily—packed basket Nissa and Riprap had carried over from Pearl’s house, the flies and other annoying insects (including tourists) simply drifted away from the area.
Nissa had taken the time to boil water. Now Pearl drank deeply from a restorative cup of tea. Righteous Drum and Des had accepted the same, but the young people had favored iced drinks.
They picnicked for a while as if they were any other group, allowing Lani to ask a million and one questions, and to report about her experiences at the morning’s screen test. Pearl used the time to arrange her thoughts, and she suspected Righteous Drum was doing the same. He also could not refrain from looking around rather anxiously, and Pearl knew he remained concerned about his absent daughter.
Honey Dream is probably taking advantage of a little private time with her newly restored “beloved,”
Pearl thought. She could tell from the look of misery that drifted over Brenda’s face whenever Righteous Drum looked about for Honey Dream that the younger woman was entertaining similar thoughts.
Very well. Let us get down to business and distract Brenda from her personal anguish by reminding her just how many others have suffered from this man’s interfering.
“You said you were bound by conflicting loyalties,” Pearl said. “Would you care to explain yourself?”
“I would and will,” Righteous Drum said with formal politeness, “but before I enter into those matters, I would like to remind you of something that, in your moment of what may feel like victory, you may have forgotten. You may hold the crystals, but I hold the means for opening them without damaging the memories stored within.”
“I doubt either Pearl or I have forgotten it for a moment,” Des said. “I, at least, am convinced that if given enough time we would figure out how to open them on our own. So stop posturing, and get on with your tale.”
“May I ask one question first?” Righteous Drum said. “How was it that Brenda Morris arrived at my apartment in such an irregular manner? Why did she choose the window and not the door?”
Nissa giggled. “My fault. When you barged in and started breathing smoke on us, I was farthest away—other than Pearl, who was in the kitchen. I’d noticed the kitchen window was open about two fingers wide when we were coming up the stairs. And I knew that if Brenda came in through the apartment door, she wouldn’t do any of us much good. So I grabbed my cell phone and left her a message when she didn’t answer.”
Pearl recalled the faint beeping she’d taken for a smoke alarm, and smiled. Seems she’d been a bit hard on the Rabbit. Nissa had acted quite wisely within the constraints imposed on her. And without Brenda arriving and then using the crystals so effectively …
And without my finding them in the first place, and without Des and Riprap holding back Righteous Drum for as long as they did. Success or failure, we’re all equally to be praised or blamed.
Brenda spoke up. “When I got there, I really wasn’t certain what good I would be. I thought maybe I’d just get away with the crystals, and try and negotiate with you later. Then I remembered the problem Des and Pearl kept having when they tried to dispel the crystals. Hard as they were physically, they were apparently magically fragile. Then there was Treaty, so I figured …”
She shrugged, and stopped. It was going to be a long time before any of those present forgot what Brenda had “figured” or that her gamble had paid off so well.
“Now,” Pearl said. “Enough delays. Tell us, Righteous Drum, about these ‘conflicting loyalties’ of yours.”
“It is a long story,” Righteous Drum warned.
“That’s fine,” Nissa said, fixing a very no-nonsense gaze on Righteous Drum. Nissa patted the bench on which she sat and Lani climbed up onto it. “We like stories.”
“Story, Mama?” Lani echoed.
“History,” Nissa said. “You just sit here and play with Mr. and Mrs. Penguin, Lani-bunny, and let this man tell us about himself.”
“Where’s Foster?”
“He’s visiting a friend. I suspect he’ll be along any time now.”
“Good. Foster likes stories.”
“I think he already knows this one,” Nissa replied. “Right, Mr. Righteous Drum?”
For answer, Righteous Drum began his tale. “From the skills you all have demonstrated, I believe that a tradition must have survived among you as to where your ancestors had their origin. Therefore, I will not go into details of that matter unless they are crucial to my account.”
Pearl gave a thin-lipped smile. “I assure you, we are very good at asking questions if some point seems a bit vague.”
“But,” Riprap added, digging into one of the lunch hampers and finding a roast-beef sandwich that had been overlooked, “we’ll keep a list and ask you all at once.”
The Dragon looked mildly overwhelmed. Apparently, whatever background he came from did not include casual American chitchat. After a moment he regained his poise, and resumed.
“Since I have been in your land, I have tried to learn something of how China is perceived—and by China I do not necessarily mean the modern nation, but the historic being. One common conception that is both true and false is that China is a very old nation. The truth is that dynasty has succeeded dynasty, and that traditions often intermingled over time, without anyone finding this in the least contradictory.
“However, this perception of cultural continuity is false as well. Dynasty has succeeded dynasty, but not in the peaceful manner that one president follows another president in the United States, or even how modern European royal houses marry, and change their names while leaving essentially the same people in power.”
Righteous Drum looked rather proud of himself as he made this statement, and Pearl didn’t wonder that he did. If Righteous Drum had indeed learned all of this in a few months’ time, then he was a scholar of note, even among Dragons, who were traditionally scholarly.
Once again Pearl wondered who might have helped Righteous Drum, Honey Dream, and Flying Claw after their arrival. She would not let Righteous Drum’s eloquence make her forget to ask. But for now, she kept silent, and listened.
“War, civil and uncivil, was the common way for dynasties to change. Indeed, the emperor who ordered the burning of the books and slaughter of the scholars is still revered as the first ruler to unify China. One of the things he commanded be burned were histories of past rulers, past wars. His motivation, so he claimed, was peace, but there is a great difference between peace and pacification. Pacification is just another form of war. And because so many warlike histories were burned, my land is very unlike your China in two key elements. Not only is it not one nation, but it is also a land in which peace is difficult to attain.”
Riprap nodded. “We knew that war occurred in the Lands Born from Smoke and Sacrifice, because ‘our’ emperor was defeated by your emperor, or at least his ancestor—grandfather, maybe? That wouldn’t have happened if everything was peaceful—or stagnant.”
“That is so.” Righteous Drum looked a little sad. “Enough history. I will move now to the events that brought us here.”

 

“About time,” Brenda muttered, but she knew her grumpiness had little to do with the light brush strokes of history Righteous Drum was using to introduce his tale. It had to do with the same thing that caused Righteous Drum to periodically look around to survey their surroundings.
Where are Honey Dream and Flying Claw?
she thought, and knew that her real question was
What are they doing?
Brenda knew she was not beautiful, and there was no doubt that in her snaky way, Honey Dream definitely was not only beautiful, but sexy as well. How could Foster resist when she was coming on to him like that? Why would he even want to if they’d been lovers before?
Brenda bit into her lower lip to fight back tears, forcing herself to concentrate hard on what Righteous Drum was saying.
“I do not know whether you will feel pleased to learn that the emperor who succeeded the one your ancestors served did not hold the Jade Petal Throne for very long. Within ten years, he was assassinated, not by someone from the former emperor’s faction, but from a faction led by a general who did not see why his former comrade-in-arms should suddenly acquire honors and divinity when this general—as well as many other former allies—knew how very human the new emperor could be.”
Brenda noted that Des was surreptitiously counting something off on his fingertips. She thought she knew what he was considering. Could the various attacks that had driven the Thirteen Orphans first from China to Japan, then eventually to the United States have been influenced in any way by these political upheavals?
Righteous Drum continued, “The deposed emperor’s advisors—the very ones who had offered exile to your ancestors—were not shown nearly so much mercy. They were executed. The new emperor had his own advisors in matters arcane, and these were the first to suspect that something had gone very wrong when exile, rather than execution, was offered to those you term the Orphans.
“You already know that although ability in the arcane arts is not limited to the Twelve Advisors of the Earthly Branches, special abilities accrue to those who take up the mantle of the Rat, the Ox, the Tiger, the Hare …”
“The Dragon, the Snake, the Horse, the Ram, the Monkey, the Rooster, the Dog, and the Pig,” Lani recited in a singsong voice. “I know those. Mama is a Hare, which is a Rabbit, too, and I will be one someday.”
Righteous Drum blinked in mild astonishment at the interruption, then inclined his head toward the child. “So it is, and I find myself rebuked for repeating a lesson even a child knows.”
“Mama and I sing,” Lani said, “songs about the animals. There’s a Cat, too.”
“Hush, Lani,” Nissa said. “Mr. Righteous Drum needs to tell his story. Play with the penguins now.”
“Okay.” Lani allowed herself to be distracted, obviously pleased to have substantially contributed to such a serious discussion.
Righteous Drum smiled slightly, and Brenda found herself wondering if Honey Dream had been anywhere near as cute when she was the same age as Lani.
“As I was saying, special abilities accrue to those who take up the mantle of the Twelve Earthly Branches. What the advisors to the new emperor gradually realized after they were initiated into their posts was that the power they received seemed attenuated. At first they credited this to their own relative lack of training in such matters. The Twelve are normally chosen from those who have undergone extensive preparation, concluding with an apprenticeship under the one who they may, in time, succeed. I say ‘may’ rather than ‘will’ since the training is complex, and one who holds the title usually accumulates several apprentices, so that when the time comes for the title to be passed on there will be a suitable choice.”
Riprap nodded. “Wouldn’t do to have the whole mob be contemporaries. After all, if the master chose to retain his—or her—title until he—or she—was of venerable years, a formerly young apprentice might be nearly retirement age him—or her—self.”
“Precisely,” Righteous Drum said. “Also, numerous apprentices provide some insurance against an accident in which both master and apprentice might be killed.”
“Or,” Pearl said dryly, “against the apprentice putting the master out of the way—especially if said master was reluctant to retire.”
“You understand the complexities, then,” Righteous Drum said, and Brenda thought his smile was uncomfortably sly. “Very well. Initially, these new Twelve thought they merely needed to study the appropriate rites and rituals, to school themselves in the appropriate branches of arcane lore. Former apprentices were located and convinced to become tutors. Many were very willing to do this, since having not been chosen themselves, they bore resentment at being rejected.
“Yet, despite extensive studies, despite examinations passed, thus proving that every theoretical point was perfectly understood, still the new advisors did not attain the strength they should have held. However, they were still very powerful, and possessed insights and abilities held by no others, and so they retained their posts. Moreover, the belief had come to be commonly held that when the mantle was passed to the next generation of apprentices, each of these duly trained and appropriately—rather than somewhat haphazardly—initiated into the rites, all would be well again.”
Des grinned. “But the situation didn’t improve, did it? How long did it take for someone to realize that in exiling the twelve duly appointed holders of the Earthly Branch titles, the full range of abilities had been exiled along with them?”
Righteous Drum drew himself up, and looked stiff and rather, Brenda thought, huffy. She swallowed a grin. It was pretty easy to see that Righteous Drum the Dragon was accustomed to being treated with the deference due to the person of high rank and prestige that he was in his own land.
But you’re among equals now,
Brenda thought,
sort of, kind of. That’s the Rooster talking to you, not some underling. That’s the Tiger looking at you through slitted eyes

and she’s no young man you rather dislike because your daughter’s in love with him. That Tiger may be old, but she’s fierce. And that’s the Rabbit with her daughter beside her, and the Dog on guard, just in case you think you can get away with something. Wake up to it, man. You’re addressing your equals

and if I’m following what you’re saying, your betters as well.
Righteous Drum seemed to remember the need to mind his manners, and gradually the tightness in his shoulders eased and the air of affronted pride left him.
“The realization,” Righteous Drum said, inclining his head toward Des, “as you term it, came slowly, and, even to this day is not universally accepted as the correct solution to the problem.”
“After all,” Pearl said softly, “to accept that as the answer would also be to accept one’s own essential inferiority.”
Righteous Drum inclined his head, and a trace of a smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “That certainly was one source of resistance. There were others, and the disagreement among the various groups is one reason that your ancestors—and in some cases yourselves—experienced decades without interference from our universe.”
Brenda cut in, her mind buzzing with the force of a sudden revelation. “But something has changed, hasn’t it? Something recent—or relatively so. I’m betting there has been another coup, hasn’t there? And that you represent those who helped overthrow the last government, right?”
Righteous Drum looked at her, and this time he made no effort to hide his astonishment. Then he looked suspicious.
“Did Flying Claw retain more of his memory than we were led to believe? Or has my daughter betrayed information that should be confidential?”
“Neither.” Brenda fought an urge to roll her eyes in exasperation. She figured it would drive this man up the wall about as fast as it did her mother. “Look. It’s obvious, right? Something is wrong in your homeland, something that drove you to the extremes of coming here. Now, maybe you represent a stable and well-established government, but there’s a lot to indicate that you do not.”
No one interrupted her, so Brenda started ticking things off on her fingers.
“One, there’s Honey Dream and Flying Claw—your Snake and Tiger. They’re both young. Pearl has told us about how although her father had spent his entire life training, he was still considered very young to take up the role as Tiger. I’m willing to bet that Honey Dream and Flying Claw are about the same age that Pearl’s dad was.
“Pearl has also told us that the training for those who hoped to take up one of the named branches was extensive, and you’ve seconded that. So why, if everything was going well, would you and your associates select two young candidates from among the many apprentices? From what Des has been lecturing us about the talents associated with the various signs, in a crisis the Tiger is a war leader, the Snake a diplomat and spy. Well, I’d guess that Foster might be a pretty good warrior, but he’s young enough that surely there should have been some apprentice Tiger who was older, someone with more experience in tactics and with actual experience in battle. And, I hate to tell you this, Mr. Righteous Drum, but whatever else your daughter is, a diplomat she is not.”
Brenda waited for someone to tell her to be quiet, but only Des spoke, and he was encouraging, “Brenda, you said there were ‘a lot’ of reasons it was ‘obvious’ that Righteous Drum did not represent an established order. You’ve given just one.”
“Well,” Brenda said, “if Righteous Drum here is part of an established order, why is he undertaking this strange and dangerous mission with just two young assistants? There are twelve who bear the mantles, right? If things were peaceful, then I would think that everyone would want to be part of this. The job would go faster, too: one specialist per memory. But that’s not how they went about it. That argues the others are needed elsewhere. One really likely reason they would be needed elsewhere would be because their emperor—and their own place—is endangered.
“Now, maybe the lack of participation is because not everyone likes the theory that they didn’t get initiated into their full powers, but even so, there must be a few others who think this is a valid explanation. Moreover, if he—Righteous Drum—was making this move, and I were one of his associates, I’d not want him grabbing hold of something I’d want. Righteous Drum might not give the power over to me freely. He might trade favors for it. My best guess as to why the rest of their Twelve let Righteous Drum and his junior duo go after something so valuable is because they really, really need it—and that the need is so great that they figure he won’t hesitate to turn over what’s been retrieved to the proper owners, or rather to those they want to think of as the proper owners.”
Brenda stopped talking, out of breath, and, momentarily, out of inspiration. This time Righteous Drum did cut in.
“You worked this out all on your own? ‘Foster’ did not remember fragments? Honey Dream did not trade information for Flying Claw’s freedom?”
“I worked it out on my own,” Brenda said. “Does your asking mean I am right?”
“You are very close,” Righteous Drum admitted. “You are correct in that we—my associates in the Twelve and I—represent a new government. However, we prefer to think of ourselves as an older reign returned to power.”
He stopped for a moment, and looked at them with an almost pleading expression. “You see, we are descended from those who served the emperor deposed by those who sent your ancestors into exile. In a sense, we are your kin.”
 
 
Pearl stared at Righteous Drum in purest astonishment. This she had not expected, not even in her wildest speculations.
But you came close,
she chided herself,
when you thought about how Foster might be related to you. You just didn’t take it far enough. You thought Foster had simply entered some training hall, been taken under the tutelage of someone who was willing to overlook the sins of ancestors exiled for over a hundred years. Yet this is a better answer.
She spoke aloud. “My father and his friends often wondered what had happened to the families they left behind. They had done their best to protect them, but once the Twelve found themselves attacked even here in the universe of their exile, they assumed that the treaty provisions meant to protect their families had been broken as well. Are you telling me that they were not?”
“They were, and they were not,” Righteous Drum said. “Now that this rather astonishing young woman has deduced what would have taken me hours to explain, I need a moment to adjust my thoughts. There is still much to tell.”
“Adjust,” Pearl said, pouring tea from the thermos, “and then tell us how not only did our ancestral families survive, but how they came to rise to power once more.”
“And why,” Riprap added, his tone full of suspicion, “they are in trouble already, and why we should believe you anyhow. Seems to me, your tale is one crafted to undo the suspicions of a romantic soul.”
He looked hard at Des when he said this, but Pearl smiled to herself as she filled Righteous Drum’s teacup.
Romantic souls

like those who have modeled their own conduct after tales of a certain Brave Dog? Well, it takes a wise man to know his own vulnerabilities.

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