Jax said goodbye to Lao Tan and headed towards the monks’ quarters. As he crossed the courtyard, he glimpsed a dark shadow slipping quietly out through the front gates of the monastery. He stopped, wondering who could be going out at this time of night. Didn’t the Abbot say that the gates had to be kept closed? Maybe he should tell Yu Yu. No, all Jax could think of now was sleep. His body was sore from the stretching and his head throbbed.
The frogmouth owls sat huddled together, their backs to the wind. They watched the Abbot close the gate and leave the quiet of Whispering Cloud Monastery. Their heads turned as one as he passed beneath them. The Abbot was wearing his purple ceremonial robe and it flapped around his legs as he strode by. Clutching a small cloth bag in one hand, he headed quickly through the rainforest towards the lake.
From within the stillness under the branches of the ancient banyan tree, the Abbot looked out over the water. The surface of the lake was covered with small waves. He relaxed and let his mind float out of his body.
Peng… Peng… The Abbot called the creature, just as the wind and the moon had called him before.
From deep within his underwater cavern, Peng felt the strong vibrations through the water. He heard a voice and raised his head to listen.
It is time, Peng… it is time.
The Abbot took the small cloth bag and poured a powder, made from finely ground herbs, into the palm of his hand. Bending down, he carefully sprinkled the powder in a large circle around him. Then he waited, his eyes closed, his mind stilled.
Before long, Peng’s massive head rose out of the lake. Seeing the Abbot, he let out a bell-like cry that skipped over the water, wrapping around the Abbot’s thoughts and melting into them. Tears clouded the Abbot’s eyes as he felt his connection with this young creature.
Peng swam towards the Abbot, and when he reached the old man standing inside the circle of herbs, he knew instinctively what to do. He lowered his head and let the Abbot lay a palm on his forehead.
They stayed there all night, and it was not until the first bird-call of morning sounded that Peng slipped back into the waters of the lake.
The Abbot hurried back to Whispering Cloud Monastery. He had completed his task. Behind him, a sudden gust of wind struck across the water, whipping the waves into a frenzy, and the branches of the ancient banyan tree groaned.