Shadow Sister (10 page)

“It isn’t Fo Tu Deng, is it?”

“It is. I can see him now.”

Tao stepped off the path to hide in the undergrowth. “What is he doing?”

“He is shouting at the men, giving them orders.”

The nomads’ camp was on an unprotected vantage point, exposed on all sides. It had been chosen with the careless confidence of oppressors assured of their complete control over everyone and everything.

“They do not even have anyone keeping watch,” Kai said.

“There was another path that led to the west a few
li
back,” Tao said. “We should go that way.”

Clouds were gathering again.

They retraced their steps, but before they had gone more than a few
chang
, there was a disturbance in the forest. It was the same sound that they had heard near Shenchi village – branches breaking, undergrowth being flattened, the thud of large feet. There was also an unholy screech that made Tao’s insides turn to water. Below them, the nomads had also heard the noise and were picking up their weapons. Whatever was causing this disturbance was getting closer. Tao’s instinct was to run, but Kai stopped him.

“Wait.”

Kai shape-changed into a sapling. Tao hid behind a bush.

The weather suddenly turned bad, as it had when they were searching for the cave. An ominous cloud covered the sun. There was a rumble of thunder. The screeching cry was now coming from a different direction. The creature sounded big, but it was able to move with great speed. Then it was so close they could hear breathing between the cries. Something leaped out of the undergrowth and across the path. Tao caught a glimpse of it. It looked like a man with wild hair wearing some sort of headdress, except the creature he saw didn’t have legs. The bottom half of it was a serpent’s tail.

“Kai. What was that? Did you see it?” Tao began to doubt his mind. “I …”

The dragon had resumed his true shape. “I saw it.”

“But it was half-human.” Tao realised that he was grasping the dragon’s mane like a child clinging to its mother. It wasn’t very brave, but he didn’t let go.

Kai pointed at a paw print on the muddy path. It was the same three-toed print that they’d seen on the other side of the mountain.

“It is the creature I have been tracking.”

“That’s not possible,” Tao said. “The monster I saw didn’t have feet. It had a serpent’s tail.”

This fact didn’t seem to trouble Kai. “It is frightened, charging in all directions.”

“If you knew you were tracking a monster, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t we go as far away from it as possible?”

“I thought I would be able to control it. I did not realise it was so dangerous until I heard the old man’s story.”

The dark sky was heavy with moisture. Large spots of rain dotted the path and the strengthening breeze carried the shrill voice of Fo Tu Deng shouting at his men.

“They’re coming this way!” Tao yanked the dragon’s mane. “We must run!”

“No. You cannot outrun the horses. We will stay here.”

Kai started to shimmer, and Tao looked away. Watching the dragon shape-change still made him queasy. This time Kai took the shape of a rock beside the path.

“Hide behind me,” he said.

Tao ducked behind the rock shape, still clinging to the dragon’s mane. The sight of his arms disappearing into what seemed to be solid rock made him feel squeamish, but he didn’t let go. Five or six horses laboured up the steep path and came to a halt right next to them. Tao was too frightened to breathe. He couldn’t understand the nomads’ language, but he could tell from the way they were glancing in all directions that they were as scared of the beast as he was. Fo Tu Deng must have ordered them to hunt it down, but they were reluctant to chase the monster. The monk, of course, had stayed at a safe distance. And even if the men had been keen to pursue the beast, their horses were refusing to continue along the path.

Tao saw the trees around him bend and sway as if they were being blown by a strong wind, and yet the wind had died. Then something crashed through the trees. The nomads, wide-eyed with terror, were turning their horses and about to gallop away, but their captain shouted orders and the men held their nerve. They drew their swords and bows, dug their heels into the horses’ flanks and set off in pursuit of the awful creature. Tao was relieved to see their enemies disappear down the track.

The creature, still close by, let out a terrible shriek just as it started to rain heavily. Kai returned to his true shape and started off after them. Tao couldn’t understand why Kai was determined to follow the nomads.

“Let them go!” Tao shouted. “Let them fight the monster.”

Tao was still clutching the dragon’s mane, now soaked by the rain. His whole body was protesting. His mind was telling him not to let go of the dragon, and yet his feet were refusing to shift. His sandals skidded along in the mud, until he was forced to move his feet or fall over.

Kai didn’t follow the path; he strode through the trees until he reached an outcrop of rock, from which they could look down on the nomads. He took on the shape of a boulder again, the same texture and colour as the surrounding rock. Tao cowered behind him. Below, they could see the creature backed up against a cliff, surrounded by the nomads. A sudden clap of thunder made the horses rear, but they didn’t bolt. Like Tao, their eyes were fixed on the monster. He had seen nothing like it, not in his worst nightmares. It hadn’t been Tao’s imagination. It
was
half-human. The lower half was serpentine, but the upper part was human. Its face was dark skinned and its head was covered in black matted hair. Glittering earrings hung from its ears and it had a ring through its nose. What Tao had at first thought was a headdress, he now realised was a part of the beast’s living body. Seven snakes grew out of the back of the creature’s neck and shoulders. These were cobras with hissing split tongues and small mesmerising eyes like shiny black pebbles. It was unnatural and terrifying, like a demon from the realms of hell. Some nomads stared in terror, others tried to turn their horses so they could escape from the awful sight. But the horses were mesmerised by the beast, their hoofs refusing to move as if they’d put down roots.

“What is it, Kai?”

The dragon didn’t answer.

Though Tao’s quailing heart was imploring him to run, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the monster, which was starting to shimmer. Tao was sick with fear. He couldn’t bear to watch. When he looked back, instead of a demon, there was a huge seven-headed snake. Its monstrous snake body was as thick as a tree trunk and at least three
chang
long, twisting and coiling in the mud. The seven heads were held upright, their jewelled crests glittering. Each pair of eyes was full of hate and hunger. The seven snake heads opened their mouths in unison, revealing long, sharp fangs. The nomads, much closer to the monster than Tao and Kai, stood in the drenching rain transfixed by the apparition. One of them screamed and shook his head, as if trying to dislodge what he could see from his mind.

Then the monster began to change from one shape to the other in rapid succession. One moment it was the giant seven-headed snake, the next the half-human demon. A nomad raised his sword and charged with a cry almost as awful as the beast’s. The creature stayed in its snake shape and the seven heads darted forwards, fangs bared. They dug deep into the man’s arm and held on while the venom pumped into him. The nomad’s war cry turned to a scream of pain and he fell from his horse. The horse reared up, turned and galloped away. That broke the spell the monster had on the horses. The nomads managed to control their mounts and turned their heads from the creature. Once the horses could no longer see it, they fled, galloping down the mountain.

“This is the beast that killed the villagers,” Tao said. “The one we heard at Shenchi.”

Tao pulled at Kai’s mane. Now was the time for them to flee as well. The wet strands of the dragon’s mane slipped through Tao’s fingers. Kai changed into the shape of a tiger and prowled down a slope towards the creature.

“Kai, what are you doing?”

Tao was left crouching among the rocks, which were not big enough to conceal him. He was as exposed and vulnerable as a baby bird fallen from its nest. When the beast saw Kai approaching, it changed into its half-human shape. The seven cobras sprouting from its shoulders hissed and spat.

Tiger-shaped Kai stood in front of the beast, not making a sound. Tao thought he must be mesmerised, but then the dragon reared up on his hind legs and roared. The creature let out another shriek and the raindrops turned to hail. Before Tao’s eyes, flaps of skin unfolded from the sides of each cobra head, opening out to reveal large white-ringed eye markings. The flaps overlapped to form a protective hood around the creature’s human head. Kai stood as if offering himself as a sacrifice. The seven cobras loomed over him, each split tongue hissing, each set of fangs dripping venom. If Tao had his staff, he would have found the courage to rush down and defend Kai, or at least that’s what he told himself, but it was out of reach and he was too afraid to move.

Chunks of ice the size of chicken’s eggs started to fall from the sky. Tao had nowhere to shelter, but most of the hail was falling on Kai. The beast changed back to the seven-headed snake, but the dragon dodged out of reach of the venom-dripping fangs. A lump of hail, bigger than the rest, struck the dragon on the head, dazing him and opening a gash above his right eye. He staggered backwards and stumbled over the dead nomad’s body. He turned back into his true shape. Tao knew why. He had felt the dragon’s triumph change to fear. He couldn’t stay shape-changed when he was afraid.

Kai scrambled to his feet, blood pouring from the wound and into his eyes. The beast reared back, surprised to see a dragon before him, but it recovered more quickly than Kai. It was ready to strike again before Kai had wiped the blood from his eyes. Tao had to do something. He picked up a large piece of hail and, with a yell, threw it at the creature. The hailstone didn’t get anywhere near the beast, which changed into its half-human shape and lunged at Kai again. Tao found his courage. He picked up as many chunks of hail as he could carry and ran down the slope, hurling them. None hit the creature, but they distracted it and the cobra heads all turned to Tao. They glanced between Kai and Tao, unsure which attacker caused the greatest threat. There was a final crack of thunder. And the creature disappeared, as if it had winked out of existence.

The hail stopped. Tao stood still, a hunk of ice in each hand. He stared at the spot where, a moment before, there had been a vicious monster. Now there was only himself and Kai.

“I think we can be sure that your
qi
exercises have not improved your throwing,” Kai said.

“How can you be so calm? Where did it go?” Tao glanced around frantically. “It might come back.”

“I am sure it has gone.”

Tao wiped the blood from Kai’s scales with wet leaves. “You’re lucky that thing didn’t bite you.”

Alongside them lay the body of the nomad who had been bitten by the beast.

“That’s strange.” Tao was examining the wound on the man’s arm. “I saw the seven snake heads dig their fangs into him, but there is only one wound.”

There were two puncture marks on the man’s arm surrounded by purple swelling. One bite had been enough to kill him.

“The seven heads were an illusion. It has one head, the same as all creatures.” Kai had pulled the red cloud herb from behind his reverse scale. “Please concentrate on my wound.”

“Sorry,” Tao said. He smeared the ointment on the cut above Kai’s eye.

“We were lucky to escape. I hope we never see it again.”

“We are going to search for it.”

“Why would we want to do that?” Tao thought Kai was making a dragon joke.

“I am beginning to understand this creature. I think it is hungry.”

“A hungry ghost?”

“No, a creature of the world, like you and me, but starving.”

Tao realised that Kai was serious. “I don’t care how hungry it is! It’s responsible for the deaths of all those people – the baby’s mother, his poor sister. It is merciless, an unnatural murderous beast that has no place in this world. We need to get as far away from it as possible.”

“It is not unnatural.”

“But you saw it! It changed from one thing to another and then it disappeared completely. It had no real body of its own.”

“It is a shape-changer, like me.”

Tao remembered how he’d felt sick whenever the beast took on a different form. He’d thought it was fear.

“I am sure that when it is not so hungry,” Kai said, “it will be less dangerous.”

“I notice you don’t say ‘harmless’,” Tao said. “How do you know it won’t kill us?”

“This is the beast I have been tracking. I learned from its dung that it eats caterpillars. I believe it has wandered from its natural habitat and cannot find the food that it normally eats. We must help it.”

“But it would take a cartload of caterpillars to fill a creature that size.”

“You are right. We need something larger. We must find woodworms. Lots of them.”

Tao was searching through rotting logs, muttering to himself. “This is not how I thought I would be spending my time when I left the monastery.”

He pulled apart the rotting wood with his fingers and revealed one of the woodworm lava Kai had instructed him to find. It was larger than his thumb and a creamy white. Its body was divided into fat segments like beads strung together. He pulled it out of the wood and placed it in the bronze bowl, which was now full of larvae.

“I don’t understand why we are trying to attract this monster,” Tao said. “I’m glad it’s disappeared. We should be running away from it.”

“It is not a monster,” Kai insisted. “It is just hungry. You will see.”

“All the more reason to keep out of its way. It’s killed many people.”

From pools of disgorged food that he had come across, Kai had discovered that the beast had tried all sorts of
wuji
– spiders, beetles, worms, all the creepy-crawly creatures without a backbone – but it had regurgitated most of them. Caterpillars were all that it could digest, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy its hunger. Kai knew they weren’t moths. Moths had large larvae, found in rotting logs. He had been collecting them as well – except he’d only found three.