Chapter Sixteen

“AHA!” RAIN POUNCED ON the small bamboo shoot, carefully breaking it off and putting it with the others. It was perfect for Maple. He was still recovering from being all alone—and from his ordeal with the monkeys—and Rain was happy to fetch him his favorite food. She quite liked the little fluff-ball. And she was determined to keep an eye on him too, even though the monkeys hadn’t been back and Sunset hadn’t shown any more interest in the cub. Whatever he was looking for, it seemed that he’d decided Maple wasn’t it.

Which was good, but sort of annoying, too.

Bargaining with monkeys for special bamboo that doesn’t do anything . . . having them beat up cubs for no reason . . . what do you want, Sunset Deepwood?

She carried the small pile of bamboo shoots back to Peony’s sleeping place, where she and Dawn were sitting with Maple, Frog, and Fir. She bumped noses with the cubs before heading back down the hill. She was sniffing for more shoots, but also for any trace of the monkeys. If she could just work out what exactly was in it for Brawnshanks . . .

“Rain.”

Rain froze, then turned to smile at Sunset on the ridge above her, feeling embarrassed that she’d just been thinking about catching him, even though she knew he couldn’t read her mind.

“Hello, Speaker,” she said.

It was hard to look at him, now that she knew just how much he was lying. Part of her wanted to avoid his attention altogether, and part of her wanted to stare and stare at that friendly-elder-panda face with its seemingly sweet and wise nature until she saw where he was hiding his lies.

Sunset strolled down the slope toward her. She forced herself to smile cheerfully.

“How is the search for a crossing coming along?” Sunset asked.

“Not much better yet, I’m afraid,” Rain began. “I think there might be a spot near the big gingko tree on the sunrise side of the Prosperhill, but I need to compare the water levels at different times of day and—”

“Rain, can I ask you a question?” Sunset interrupted. Rain’s ears pricked up in surprise.

“Of course, Dragon Speaker.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

Rain felt as if she’d been pushed into cold water. It seemed for a second as if all the noises of the forest had suddenly been muted. The faint sense of control she’d found by being secretly sarcastic to him vanished like mist at Long Light.

Sunset held her gaze steadily. Rain knew she’d already hesitated too long, that her silence was as good as a confession. The problem was, she couldn’t think of an excuse. It wasn’t the right time to confront him about his lies. And what other reason would she have for ignoring his orders?

“How did you know?” she muttered, trying to buy time while she scrabbled to get a grip.

“Pebble told me you’ve been nowhere near the river,” Sunset said mildly.

Rain’s temper flared, jolting her out of her hesitation. “Wow, you’ve really turned him against me, haven’t you?” she snapped. She regretted it instantly. Not smart, Rain, not smart at all . . .

But Sunset shook his head as if the accusation had only made him feel slightly sad.

“I’m sorry you feel that,” he said, his voice dripping with concern. “I’m interested in why you didn’t do as you were asked, though. Did you just not feel like it? Pebble did say that you could be . . . self-motivated.”

Selfish, Rain thought. He said selfish—and he’s wrong. If I were selfish, I wouldn’t care whether Sunset was telling the truth or not; I’d go along with it just like the rest.

“But I promise you,” Sunset went on, “all I want is to look after the Bamboo Kingdom. Will you come with me to the river now?” he added. “There’s something I’d like to show you. Perhaps it will change your mind.”

Part of Rain wondered how he’d react if she just told him no. But on the other hand, what did he want to show her? If he was about to reveal another clue to his strange behavior, without knowing it, then it would be worth the discomfort of walking with him.

“. . . All right.” Rain said. She didn’t think there was much else to say. Sunset turned and, looking over his shoulder, led the way downhill toward the riverbank.

As they walked, she kicked herself—if she’d been as clever as she thought she was, she would actually have gone swimming, so it would have looked like she was doing as he’d asked.

“The thing is, I didn’t look for a way across because . . . because there isn’t one,” she improvised, as they made their way down between the trees. “I’ve been swimming in this river all my life. I know. The central tide’s fatal, no matter how far you go. I just didn’t want to tell you the truth; I thought you were going to be disappointed. It seemed so important to you.”

“So you were thinking of my feelings,” Sunset said. “That was kind of you, but please, don’t feel you need to do that anymore. I want you to tell me the truth.”

I bet you do, Rain thought.

“So . . . why are you so desperate to get to the other side, anyway?” she asked. “Maybe if I’d understood, I’d have tried harder.”

“Reuniting with our lost families and friends is the most important thing we can do, isn’t it?” Sunset said. “But beyond that, what if the Great Dragon were to send me a vision of some terrible accident about to happen in the Northern Forest, and there were no pandas there for me to pass it on to? The creatures there would be doomed without pandas to pass on the Dragon’s warnings.”

Rain nodded thoughtfully, but the more she considered this explanation, the less sense it made.

So which is it? You’re so sure we’ll find pandas over there, but if that’s true, wouldn’t they be able to go to their sacred places or whatever and receive your messages, just like they did before the flood? she thought. Unless you don’t actually have visions at all. Unless you know that you couldn’t send a warning to pandas over there anyway.

Part of her longed to turn and challenge him on all of this. It stung her that Sunset might think she was just as gullible as the rest. But she told herself again that it was much too soon. She would have to play along and buy back his trust somehow.

And anyway, what was he going to show her by the river? She wanted to know, but she felt uneasy, as if all her fur from tail to nose had been ruffled the wrong way and now it couldn’t quite lie flat.

They came at last to a point on the riverbank where a flat shelf of rock sloped smoothly down into the shallows. Dappled shadows from the trees overhead reflected on the surface of the water and cast shimmering patterns on the rock beneath. As they approached, a frog let out a croak and hopped from the rock into the river with a soft plop.

Rain’s heart lightened a little. This was the place where she had first learned to swim. The gentle slope of the rock was perfect for little paws to get used to the water. She’d met Pebble here a lot too, when they were small cubs. He used to be so afraid of the river he wouldn’t even drink from it, but Rain had shown him that he could touch it, and even swim in it, without anything terrible happening. The memory was so warm and full of love . . .

Then she remembered that it was Sunset by her side now, not Pebble, and she shuddered. It felt so wrong for him to be here, though he couldn’t have known how important this place was to her.

Sunset padded out into the water and motioned for Rain to come to his side.

All the muscles in Rain’s body tensed. She suddenly felt very aware of how large he was. He acted like a friendly elder, but he was a full-grown adult bear, and his travels in the kingdom seemed to have made him strong.

But she didn’t have much of a choice. She stepped into the water. The cool river lapped over her paws, coming up to her belly. At any other moment it would have been calming and familiar.

“Look down into the water,” Sunset said.

Rain looked at Sunset. He gave her an encouraging nod. She looked down.

The rock under their paws was smooth and black, and the water flowing over it was clear.

“See,” Sunset said. His voice dropped a little and he spoke in a deep, wise-sounding tone that reverberated in his chest. “See the vision that the Great Dragon has given me. Look into the water. You’ll see yourself, standing by my side. The Great Dragon has plans for us both, together. It wants you to be my second-in-command, Rain.”

Rain looked down. The surface of the water was calm, and she could see her reflection, and Sunset’s beside it.

She couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing.

“Just how stupid do you think I am?”

“What?” Sunset’s voice returned to its normal pitch as he stared at her in shock.

“Seriously? Did you really think that would work?” Rain splashed her paw through the reflection, and it splintered and reformed exactly the same. “It’s showing us together because you’re standing right beside me! You really have the others so well trained they’d believe anything, don’t you?”

“How dare you,” Sunset said coldly, the edge of a growl in his voice. “You should show your Dragon Speaker more respect!”

“I would, if they were here,” Rain snapped back. The look on Sunset’s face was priceless, but now her laughter was fading and anger filled her heart. How dare he try to trick her like this?

The fury was made all the sharper by the dawning realization that she had done exactly what she had been determined not to do—she had accused him of being a fraud. Not smart. But I don’t care. There was no turning back now.

“You’re a liar and a fraud, Sunset Deepwood. I know you made a bargain with the monkeys. I know you were the one who had them beat up Maple. And I know you’re no Dragon Speaker.”

Sunset said nothing. He was shaking with rage, his teeth slowly baring as Rain went on. She took a step away from him, splashing in the shallow water.

“I’ve waited too long to tell the others what I know, but now I think I should go and lay it out for them. We’ll see what they say, shall—”

Sunset leaped.

Panic flared in Rain’s chest as she dodged away from him.

He wouldn’t—

Sunset reared up on his back legs and roared. Throwing off all pretense at friendliness, he was suddenly huge in front of Rain, his large adult claws swiping through the air and missing Rain’s nose by a hair’s breadth.

Why had she thought he wouldn’t hurt her?

Go!

She tried to turn away. She was smaller, but she was also the better swimmer. If she could just get out into the stream—

Heavy paws came down on her shoulders, and her legs slipped and buckled on the wet stone. She tried to gasp in a deep breath, but she only succeeded in getting a mouthful of water as Sunset forced her under. She tried to brace and roll him off, but her paws scrabbled and she couldn’t get a grip on the sandy stone riverbed. Sunset was too strong. Her lungs began to burn as panic blinded her. She tried to fight—she wouldn’t be drowned; she of all pandas would not let this traitor drown her—but as she thrashed, the world dimmed. Sunset’s paws were clamped on the sides of her head, keeping her down. She could hear her heartbeat like a slow thunderclap between her ears, feel it slowing in her throat even as her mind raced, screaming at her body to struggle, to swim, to do something.

Then her paw struck an unfamiliar texture. What was it? She couldn’t see, couldn’t think. It felt like soft flesh, like a fish, but long and wavering like a weed. It wrapped itself around her front paws, and with a feeling like she was falling from a great height, it yanked her forward and down, and out of Sunset’s grip.

In her relief, she let go of the last bubble of air she had been holding.

She was free. But she knew she was drowning. And the curling thing around her paws was dragging her deeper and deeper, toward the deadly tide at the center of the flooded river.