River of secrets, p.15
River of Secrets, page 15
The Dragon’s always come to me by the river, she thought. I don’t know why, but I’m sure I’m still in the right place.
She sat down beside the shallows and let the water lap over her paws. The familiarity of it was calming.
All right, Great Dragon, she thought. I’m here. I believe. Please help me. . . .
There was no waterfall now to look into, so presumably her answer wouldn’t come in the form of mist. Instead she stared at the pool and tried to relax, focusing on the way the light shone through the leaves of trees far overhead and shimmered on the clear surface of the pool. It was so calm she could see her own reflection looking back at her, just as she had when Sunset had tried to convince her he was showing her a vision. . . .
The pool darkened. For a moment Rain thought it was just the sun passing behind a cloud, and perhaps that was happening too. But the colors in the pool shifted from green and brown to gray and then almost to black. Her reflection was still and clear.
And then, over the reflection’s shoulder, another panda face slowly crept into view.
It was . . . also her. But the eyes were different. They were wrong.
The Rain behind her reared back, raised its paws, and shoved her into the water.
Rain yelled and flailed, spinning around ready to fight, but there was nothing there. It was only after a moment’s breathless staring into the trees that she realized that she hadn’t felt any paws on her back either.
It was a vision.
She looked back into the pool, but it was clear, its colors bright, and her reflection faint and broken from where her scrambling had disturbed the surface.
A panda with my face . . . but it wasn’t me.
Some panda pretending to be her? Who wanted to take her place, get her out of the way?
“Well . . . yeah,” she murmured out loud. “Sunset’s pretending to be a Dragon Speaker. He tried to drown me. That happened already.” She stared back into the pool. Her reflection was coming back together, but no matter how hard she glared at it, it seemed that was all the vision she was getting. “Listen,” she grumbled. “I’m trying. You sent me a vision! I believe; it’s amazing. But I was really hoping you’d be a bit more helpful than that! I know Sunset’s a fraud—the part I need help with is stopping him.”
There was no answer from the pool.
Rain sighed.
She would just have to do this herself.
Chapter Seventeen
SUNSET SAT ON HIS rock, his eyes closed and his nose tipped toward the sky. He passed the blue stone from paw to paw, almost restlessly. Ghost watched with a sense of anxiety building in his chest. What was the Dragon saying to him? Would it be something about Pepper?
The rest of the pandas stared up silently at their Dragon Speaker, and Ghost wondered if they had noticed Sunset’s agitation too. The longer Sunset’s eyes stayed closed, the more he passed the stone back and forth and back and forth, the more the tension in the air of the feast clearing grew.
Could he be having trouble? Ghost wondered. The monkeys brought him that striped bamboo, and he hasn’t eaten any at this feast. Does it help him hear the Dragon’s voice?
Finally Sunset let out a huge sigh, his shoulders rising and then sagging. He wobbled slightly on his rock and let his chin fall, his eyes blinking open. He stared ahead for a moment, still not speaking. Ghost could feel the breathing of the pandas next to him hitch as without a word he got down from the rock and stood among them, in the very center of the clearing.
For a moment longer, he still didn’t speak. He seemed to be gathering himself.
“My friends,” he said finally, “the Great Dragon has sent me a difficult message. The Dragon itself is worried about us. We are in danger.”
A shudder seemed to run around the clearing, stirring the fur of every panda who heard Sunset’s warning. No panda spoke, but Ghost could feel them pressing forward, desperate to know what kind of danger awaited them. He dug his claws into the ground and watched Sunset with a firm stare. Whatever it was, he would be ready for it.
“The Dragon tells me there is a liar in the forest,” Sunset went on. “They plan to do us harm. We must all be vigilant.”
Is it Pepper? Ghost wondered.
“Funny how the Dragon never tells you names,” said a voice. Ghost spun around and looked up to see Brawnshanks sprawled in the branch of a tree, his tail and one leg swinging. All around him, a crowd of golden monkeys sat watching the pandas, or looking bored and scratching themselves. Ghost’s muzzle twitched in a silent growl. It bothered him that the monkeys could creep up to the heart of the Prosperhill without being heard, if it suited them.
“If I were a Great Dragon,” Brawnshanks went on, “I’d be specific. Tell you exactly who to watch out for.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” elderly Mist retorted, glaring up at Brawnshanks. “Disrespectful monkey.”
“He’s kind of got a point,” said Goby. Several of the other pandas turned to look at him in disapproval, but some of the younger ones nodded. “Can’t the Great Dragon tell you more about who to look out for? Didn’t it give you any clues?”
All heads in the clearing turned to Sunset, and for a moment, Ghost saw a flicker of anger crease the fur between his eyes. Then he shook his head sadly.
“I’m afraid the visions don’t come to me that way,” he said with a kind smile at Goby. “Only a Dragon Speaker can ever experience them, so I understand that it may seem strange. But it’s not for us to question the Dragon’s wisdom, only to follow its advice—if we do not, we risk damaging the balance of the kingdom once again.”
“The flood,” whispered Lily to Crag, just behind Ghost, and this thought echoed through the rest of the assembled pandas. Goby nodded sadly.
“My honorable friend Brawnshanks,” Sunset said, taking a step toward the tree where the golden monkeys were roosting like hefty, restless birds. “I know that your kind struggles to understand the will of the Dragon, and you have my sympathies. But I suggest that if you cannot listen quietly and try to understand, you leave this clearing.”
Brawnshanks stretched, then pulled both feet up onto the branch so he was squatting, looking down at Sunset with his front paws on his back knees.
“I’m just saying,” he chortled, “the Bamboo Kingdom is full of liars, cheats, and frauds—isn’t it, Dragon Speaker? One more won’t make much difference, will it?”
He leaped away without waiting for Sunset’s reply, and the golden monkeys followed his lead with a chattering whoop of laughter, vanishing back into the forest with none of the stealth they’d used to approach.
“I bet it’s him,” Ghost heard Frog whisper to Fir.
“We can only pity those poor creatures who don’t know how to follow the Dragon’s wisdom,” Sunset said, though Ghost noticed he was saying it through gritted teeth. “And show them the way whenever we can.”
And with that, he turned on the spot and walked away. The pandas began to disperse, most of them cheerful enough. But Ghost knew Sunset well enough by now to notice that his muscles were tense as he walked, his claws spiking into the earth with every step.
It must be hard to be the Speaker and deal with creatures like Brawnshanks, he thought as he watched Sunset go. But I hope he doesn’t let the monkey distract him. Whether it’s Pepper or someone else who’s the liar, we all need to be vigilant—including him.
Ghost stepped into the river, glancing both ways along the bank in case he spotted the tiger again, but there was no sign of it.
He’d figured out how he could best help Sunset. The Dragon Speaker didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone right now—perhaps the vision had disturbed him even more than it seemed. But he’d said they needed to be vigilant, and with Pepper happily collecting bamboo under the observation of Ginseng and Pebble, the most vigilant thing he could think to do was go back to the Northern Forest and try again to find the other two triplets. Maybe Pepper was the liar, or one of the others would be, or it could be something else entirely. Whatever the truth, he knew he would feel better for putting his knowledge of the situation to use, rather than lying around pretending that everything was normal.
Sure enough, he’d barely gone a few bear-lengths into the Northern Forest when he sensed that something was wrong. He heard raised voices downriver. He hurried in their direction, anxiety gripping his heart tighter and tighter as he grew closer.
A high wail of distress split the air. Ghost broke into a run, pounding along the muddy bank until he came around a bend, his paws slipping, and saw a small group of pandas gathered around something at the edge of the water.
Two of them were Bay and Azalea Prosperhill, who must have been exploring the northern bank too. There was also a panda he didn’t know—it was this one who had let out the horrible cry. She was crouched low, poking at the thing floating in the water and keening to herself.
Dread seemed to rise from the mud and cling to Ghost’s fur, making it hard to step forward and look closer at what was in the water. But he forced himself to confirm his awful suspicions.
Sure enough, the river streamed red from the spot where the pandas stood, and as he came closer he could see a black paw, and a white muzzle . . . a muzzle with a long and jagged scar over it.
“No, Plum,” moaned the unknown panda. “How could this happen to you?”
Azalea looked around, saw Ghost, and sighed, bowing her head. “Something’s killed one of the Northern Forest pandas,” she explained sadly.
Ghost nodded and stepped closer, but he felt as if he were floating away from his own body as he did so.
“I don’t understand,” said the Northern Forest panda. Her voice sounded dim and strange to Ghost. “The last we heard she was with her niece. They were making their way to the Darkpool. How did this happen?”
“It looks like she’s had a tough time,” said Bay softly, indicating the scars. Ghost felt sick.
“I’m going to get the Dragon Speaker,” Azalea said, and hurried past Ghost, back upriver toward the Egg Rocks.
The Northern Forest panda looked up, her grief-filled face turning to surprise.
“What’s your name?” Bay asked her.
“Grass Darkpool,” whispered the panda. She was still staring after Azalea. Then she shook herself and looked back at Plum, sadness clouding her gaze again. “This was Plum. She was my friend, back when we were both Slenderwoods.”
Ghost forced himself to look at the body. It was covered in scratches and bites, deep welts that looked painful as well as fatal. It hadn’t been an easy death, or a quick one.
“She was a kind, good panda,” said Grass. “She left us to climb the White Spine Mountains, to look for answers about . . . about the flood. We heard she was on her way back. She wasn’t supposed to be alone. . . .”
She was alone by the time we met her in the forest, Ghost thought. He chewed lightly on his tongue, just to make absolutely certain he wouldn’t accidentally say it out loud. It should be Sunset’s decision whether they told the others about their encounter.
They stayed together by the body for a little while longer, and then Ghost heard paw steps on the mud behind him, and he turned to see Sunset and Azalea, with Peony and Blossom following behind them.
Sunset slowed his pace as he approached Plum’s body, and bent his head close to hers with a sigh of deep sadness.
“I knew Plum a little before the flood,” he told Grass and Bay. “I’m so very sorry her life ended this way.” He reached out and gently moved one of Plum’s sodden paws, inspecting the scratches and bite marks. “I’m afraid I know what must have happened—poor Plum ran afoul of the tiger that’s been spotted hunting near the river.”
Bay gasped, and Blossom shook her head.
Ghost looked again at the wounds.
Could that be right . . . ?
“Predators,” Blossom spat, with a glance at Ghost, which Ghost tried to ignore.
“Quiet,” Peony admonished her.
Sunset laid a paw gently on Plum’s forehead. “Great Dragon, please guide Plum’s spirit to the mountain in the sky,” he said, in a deep voice. “Now we must return and break the sad news to the others. Grass,” he added, looking at the Darkpool panda, “will you join us in the Prosperhill? There is as much bamboo as you could want, and many pandas who would love to meet you and hear all about poor Plum.”
Grass hesitated for a long moment, looking at Sunset. Ghost wasn’t sure why, but he thought a look of outright hostility crossed her face before she bowed to him and backed away. “I have pandas of my own, waiting for me,” she said, and vanished into the trees before Sunset could say anything else.
“Very well.” Sunset motioned for the other pandas to join him, and set off back toward the river crossing.
Ghost let them get ahead of him, padding slowly and then stopping. He would catch up. But he needed a minute to himself.
He waited until they had gone around the bend and disappeared before he went back to the body. He knew that he couldn’t explain to them what he was doing. He wasn’t even quite sure of it himself. Gently, with guilt and sadness heavy on his shoulders, he pushed Plum over in the water, once and then again, checking her wounds. It was just as he’d thought—the wounds were deep, but they were almost random, as if they’d been sustained in a drawn-out fight with an attacker. She had probably bled out, or perhaps died from shock or from a blow to the head.
That’s not how a predator would kill its prey, Ghost thought. Even if it had no intention of eating her, surely a tiger would finish a fight like this quickly, with a bite to the back of the neck, just like he used to do when the cubs Born of Winter hunted rabbits in the mountains. Why draw it out and risk the creature landing a last desperate blow that could give you a limp or a blind eye and make it hard to feed yourself in the future?
He couldn’t know for certain, of course, but if they had asked Ghost, he wouldn’t ever have said Plum was killed by a tiger.
It was odd that Sunset could be so mistaken. But he had probably been shaken by seeing her again too. . . .
“Ghost!” Sunset barked. Ghost spun around, kicking up river droplets, and saw Sunset standing by the bend in the bank, watching him. “Come on, we have work to do.”
Ghost hurried to Sunset’s side, feeling embarrassed. He wondered if he should mention his observations to the Dragon Speaker, but something about Sunset’s manner told him it wasn’t the right time.
Ghost could see Peony, Blossom, Azalea, and Bay as they rounded the bend, but they were quite some way ahead, and Sunset didn’t hurry to catch up with them.
“Plum is dead,” he said suddenly. “A tragedy, to be certain. But it does mean she can no longer spread her crazy ideas to the Prosperhill, and for that I thank the Great Dragon. There is, however, one more panda who can still turn the kingdom against us. I think it’s time we dealt with Pepper.”
Sunset’s words made Ghost’s fur prickle and stand on end. What was Sunset planning?
They didn’t speak all the way back to the feast clearing. Sunset gave a short explanation of what had happened, and he comforted the pandas who had known Plum before the flood, but his words were quick and perfunctory. All the time, it seemed like he had something else he would rather be doing, and sure enough, as soon as he’d delivered the news, he turned to Pepper and told him to follow him.
It wasn’t a request, and Ghost immediately fell back into his role as a guard, even though Pepper went willingly. He still seemed mostly oblivious to the trouble he might be in, or else very good at pretending not to notice Sunset’s dark mood.
Sunset led them a little way away from the feast clearing, although they didn’t go as far as the circle of trees—Sunset didn’t seem to have the patience to go that far. They found a secluded clearing, and Sunset immediately turned on Pepper.
“Where are your siblings?” he growled.
“I don’t know,” Pepper said, yet again.
“Describe them!”
“They’re pandas,” said Pepper, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself making the silly joke, even though he knew Sunset was in no mood to hear it.
“I was warned about a liar coming to the Prosperhill,” Sunset said. He stalked close to Pepper, his nose almost pressed to the young bear’s. The way that he moved made Ghost’s paws tingle. He looked like a predator. It almost made Ghost step forward and put himself between them, though he wasn’t sure if it was Sunset or Pepper he wanted to protect. “Are you that liar, Pepper? I’m starting to think so,” Sunset asked.
“What if you’re the liar?” said Pepper.
There was a long, awful silence. Sunset almost seemed to swell in size as he stared down at Pepper, his flanks heaving with every furious breath.
Ghost felt as if he were standing at the top of a steep hill, unbalanced, about to fall.
“Maybe you’re a triplet; maybe you’re not,” Sunset said. “Either way, we can’t trust you. And we don’t need you anymore.”
And he lashed out, claws raking through the air toward Pepper’s throat.
Ghost was too slow to react, shock thumping through him like the first roaring tremor of an earthquake.
But Pepper was fast, and he was ready. He dropped to the ground and rolled away. Sunset roared and lunged forward to try to seize the small panda between his jaws, and his teeth did scrape Pepper’s shoulder, drawing a trickle of blood, but Pepper managed to wiggle free with a cry of terror and scramble to his paws. Sunset tried to swipe at him once more, but Pepper was gone into the bushes, squeezing through a gap where no panda Sunset’s size could follow.
“You won’t escape!” Sunset roared.
Ghost just stared.
Sunset had tried to kill Pepper. To tear him apart, right in front of Ghost.
“Ghost!” Sunset snapped, and Ghost realized it wasn’t the first time he’d called his name. “I need you to focus now. You know what you have to do. Become the white monster. Save the Bamboo Kingdom from this lying, traitorous cub.”
For another moment, Ghost still just stared at him. Become the white monster?
“Go after him,” Sunset said, his voice a low growl that seemed to shake the ground below him. “And make sure he never returns to the Southern Forest. Do I make myself clear?”
