CHAPTER
13

“I hope you were not expecting dinner,” the woman said. “We’re poor people and we don’t have food to spare.”

“Suya,” Sifen admonished. “These children are guests.”

Suya flushed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be so stingy. It’s just that the emperor’s men seized ­everything. We would have nothing at all to eat if I hadn’t managed to hide this.”

With those words, Suya bent to the floor and pushed aside the blankets on Sifen’s bed, revealing a wood plank on the floor. As she lifted the plank, Pinmei saw a stone had been removed from the floor to create a hiding space for a small jar. Everyone leaned in as Suya opened the jar and the uncooked rice began to fall from it like beads from a broken necklace.

“Oh!” Suya cried, and she quickly began to pick up the spilled rice. Pinmei knelt down to help her. Their eyes met and Pinmei felt a sudden kinship. She knew what it was like to be worried about rice in a jar.

“We can’t afford to lose one grain now,” Suya said to her. “After this is gone, we will have nothing.”

“I wish I could give you the magic red stone,” Pinmei said without thinking.

“Magic red stone?” Suya said.

“Oh, nothing,” Pinmei said, her throat tightening. She felt her words begin to hide, as if scurrying to the hole in the floor.

“Too bad. It sounded like something from a story,” Suya said with a wry smile. “We could use one. Sifen loves stories.”

“Yes, I do!” Sifen said, overhearing their conversation. “Especially these days, when I would do anything to think of something other than this.” He motioned to his bandaged legs and grimaced. “Come, Storyteller’s granddaughter! Do you have a story to share?”

Pinmei opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A stone of ice began to grow in her throat, and she clutched at the jade bracelet. How she wished Amah were here! Amah would tell these people a story; her safe, soothing voice would wrap them in a warm blanket. Pinmei felt a longing wash over her, and she shook her head.

“Yes, you do!” Yishan said in his scoffing tone. ­“Pinmei, you know every story Amah has ever told.”

Pinmei felt everyone’s eyes on her, and the stone in her throat grew and pushed against her lungs and heart. She tried to gulp, but the air seemed to have turned solid. Amah! Pinmei thought desperately. I need you! Blindly, she turned to run from the room in panic.

But a hot hand grabbed hers. Pinmei looked down to see Sifen gazing up at her, the lines on his face painting a picture of his pain.

“Please,” he said. “Please, tell me a story.”

The heat of his hand traveled up her arm, and the ice inside her began to melt. Amah is not here, Pinmei thought. There’s only me. She looked again at Sifen’s pleading eyes and swallowed. When it is time for you to do something, you will do it. Amah’s words echoed, untying and smoothing the knotted string of Pinmei’s voice. Slowly, Pinmei nodded. Then she took a deep breath, and, with a whisper, she started the story.

After Nuwa, the goddess with the fish tail, mended the sky, there were still many problems. The sea overflowed with water from the Starry River of the Sky and churned with ­monstrous beasts. The waters were in complete chaos.

At that time, there was a young boy named Ku-Ang. His father had been a fisherman, so the sea’s transformation was devastating to them. What had once been home was now a place of peril and the family was ­poverty stricken.

To help, Ku-Ang gathered firewood to sell to other villagers.

One day, while collecting wood, Ku-Ang saw something red glittering on the ground. Curious, he picked it up. It was a red stone.

It was small and round and smooth, and while it did not glow, it was so shiny Ku-Ang could see himself reflected in it.

It was rather pretty, so Ku-Ang thought he would give it to his mother. He put it in his lunch bag and continued to gather wood.

However, at lunchtime, there were two dumplings in his bag instead of one. Ku-Ang scratched his head. He was sure there had only been one dumpling in the morning. Had the stone done something?

When he returned home that evening, instead of giving the stone to his mother as he had planned, he slipped it into the half-empty rice jar.

The next morning, before his parents awoke, Ku-Ang peeked into the rice jar. The jar was full!

“It was the stone!” Ku-Ang said. Laughing, he called out to his family.

But after Ku-Ang told his story, his father shook his head.

“That stone does not belong to us,” he said. “You must return it to where you found it.”

Ashamed, Ku-Ang returned to the mountain forest. When he arrived at the place where he had found the stone, he saw an old man sitting as if waiting for him.

“Was this your stone?” Ku-Ang asked as he bowed and offered the stone.

“There are three things of Nuwa left here on earth,” the old man said, ignoring Ku-Ang’s question. “A tear, a strand of hair, and a drop of blood. You are holding the drop of blood.”

Ku-Ang gasped and dropped the red stone in the old man’s lap. The old man looked into Ku-Ang’s eyes.

“If you are pure of heart,” the old man said, “this stone will bring the Sea King to calm the waters.”

The Sea King? Ku-Ang’s eyes widened. If the Sea King could calm the waters, the monsters would stop coming to shore. People would not live in fear and his father could fish again. The world could return to normal.

“But to find him,” the old man said, placing the stone back in Ku-Ang’s hand, “you must bring the stone safely to the top of the mountain north of the village.”

Ku-Ang gulped. No one went to the Northern Mountain. Evil beasts plagued the way. But to have a Sea King! Ku-Ang turned and began to make his way to the Northern Mountain.

To get to the Northern Mountain, Ku-Ang had to cross the abandoned Black Bridge. As he stepped onto it, a monstrous snake sprang from the water, and Ku-Ang saw horrible, sharp teeth coming toward him. But right before they snapped upon him, the snake caught sight of Ku-Ang’s prize.

“The red stone!” it hissed. “You wish to go to the Northern Mountain?”

“Yes,” Ku-Ang said, his head high even though his legs trembled.

“Do you know horrible Haiyi?” the evil creature asked.

Horrible Haiyi? He was the wicked bully of the village. Ku-Ang knew Haiyi and his cruelty all too well.

“Yes.” Ku-Ang nodded.

“I will let you pass if you agree to bring me the ears of horrible Haiyi’s old mother,” the enormous snake hissed. “Or I will kill you right now!”

“Never!” Ku-Ang shouted instantly. “I have my own mother, and I will never harm another’s!”

“Then die!” the snake hissed, and it seized Ku-Ang with its knifelike teeth, lifted him up into the sky, and flung him away with all its might.

Ku-Ang landed painfully on the ground, across the lake, bleeding and gasping. But the stone was still in his hand, so he pushed himself up and began to stagger toward the Northern Mountain. He had only made it halfway across the plain when a large black shadow began to circle around him. Clutching his injured side, he looked up.

Above him was a gigantic, vile bird, green poison shining on its feathers. With a horrible shriek, it landed in front of Ku-Ang, its foul smell making him flinch.

“The red stone!” it screeched. “You wish to go to the Northern Mountain?”

“Yes,” Ku-Ang said.

“Do you know horrible Haiyi?” the bird screamed.

Ku-Ang nodded.

“I will let you pass if you agree to bring me the bones of horrible Haiyi’s younger brother,” the evil bird screeched. “Or I will kill you now.”

“Never!” Ku-Ang shouted. “I have my own brother, and I would never harm another’s!”

“Then die!” the bird shrieked, and it grabbed Ku-Ang with its stabbing claws, flew into the sky, and flung him away with all its might.

When Ku-Ang was finally able to open his eyes and sit up, he saw he sat on the Northern Mountain. The sea stretched below him, the red stone was in his hand, and the top of the mountain was not far away. Although he sobbed with pain, he knew he could not give up now. Swaying and stumbling, he made his way toward the top of the mountain.

Just as he was reaching the top, he heard a loud shout that filled him with dread. It was horrible Haiyi!

“Ku-Ang!” Haiyi bellowed. “Give me that stone!”

Ku-Ang clutched the stone. He could not let Haiyi have it. Should he throw it into the sea? But then I’ll never find the Sea King, Ku-Ang thought. “What should I do?”

The ruffian had almost reached him. His ugly face jeered as he saw that Ku-Ang was trapped. “Give me that stone,” Haiyi called, “or I’ll get you!”

“Never!” Ku-Ang shouted, and he put the stone in his mouth and swallowed it.

Immediately, an excruciating pain burned inside him. A noise bellowed from his throat, startling Haiyi and himself. Ku-Ang fell backward off the cliff, slowly turning and spinning in the air.

The sky seemed to embrace him, for the wind blew around him as if coating him with a new skin. The pain from the stone began to dissipate, but Ku-Ang could still feel its power pulsating; his whole body felt as if it were bursting.

Ku-Ang stretched his hands in front of him, and, with shock, he saw they had turned into claws! His arms were covered in scales! And as he plummeted downward, he saw his reflection in the strangely still water. He had turned into a dragon!

The sea stirred. A wild whirlpool began to spin, its white waves becoming a herd of ­longma—­dragon ­horses—­racing to herald him in. When Ku-Ang touched the water, a crashing roar echoed and the entire sea opened, as if welcoming an honored ruler.

For it was. Ku-Ang, the Sea King, had arrived.

“So the boy turned into a dragon and found himself the king of the sea,” Old Sai said.

Pinmei looked at him in surprise, her eyes refocusing. She had gotten so lost in telling the story she had forgotten people were listening.

“That was great!” Sifen said, his face glowing. “You truly are the Storyteller’s granddaughter!” And Pinmei felt a shy smile creep onto her face.

“That red stone,” Yishan said. “I know we’re not sure about the dragon’s pearl… Do you think maybe that’s the stone the emperor is looking for?” He looked at her.

Pinmei slowly shook her head. “The red stone never glowed,” Pinmei said. “It would never have lit the night like the one the emperor keeps asking for.”

“And what would the emperor want with a stone that doubles rice and dumplings? He has plenty of both!” Suya said, but she was looking at Sifen’s changed face with a smile. She turned to include the others, and ­Pinmei saw that unlike her earlier ­close-­lipped smile, this one was soft and kind.

“Maybe the emperor would want it so he could be transformed into a dragon,” Old Sai suggested.

“I doubt it,” Sifen said. “Besides, didn’t the old man say you had to be pure of heart? You couldn’t say that about the emperor.”

“Shh! Sifen!” Suya said, looking as if she were afraid a soldier would jump out of a wall. She stood up and shook her head. “I’ll go start dinner,” she said, and then added, with a warm glance at the children, “for all of us.”