"How….." Words failed me. "How….. Who did this, Master?"

"It is the work of many, many hands over the span of centuries," he said calmly. "Followers of the Way, followers of the Path of Dharma. Come, let us see if my old friend Abbot Hong remains with us."

As we made our way down, I couldn't stop staring. The scale of the carvings was just so immense, the labor required so unimaginably vast. Serene faces taller than I was gazed tranquilly into the gorge. It was a relief to me to see that Bao and the others seemed no less impressed than I was, goggling at the looming figures and exclaiming at the imposing sight in hushed tones.

"I should like to see it," the princess said wistfully. The dragon echoed the thought.

"You shall," I promised. "Only I do not think now is a good time."

"No."

Luck favored us. Master Lo's old friend the abbot was alive and well. Fetched by a pair of very startled acolytes, he hobbled out to meet us, leaning on a gnarled cane. The abbot took the measure of our company in a single keen glance. Although he was bent and wizened with age, beneath his wrinkled lids his eyes sparkled with inner joy and a lively wit. Even if I had not known, I would have guessed in a heartbeat that he and Master Lo were friends of long standing and considerable mutual respect.

"Lo Feng Tzu," Abbot Hong said in a thin, reedy voice. "You have been gone a very long time. Where is your braid and your beard? I scarce know you!"

Master Lo smiled and bowed. "I have borrowed your guise, old friend, and brought you a dilemma."

"So you have, so you have." The abbot inclined his bent back in the direction of the veiled princess. "Even here, I have heard rumors of your disappearance. Be welcome, Noble Princess."

She bowed in return. "Thank you, Revered Brother."

In the plain, rustic chambers of a building with tip-tilted roofs perched atop the gorge, we shared our food, dined, and took counsel with Abbot Hong. For being the head of a monastery in such a remote place, he was surprisingly well-informed about the doings of both Lord Jiang's forces and the Imperial army, warning us that while the Imperial army was gathering in mass, Lord Jiang had left scattered companies of men behind to hunt for us.

Tired as I was, I let the conversation wash over me. Knowing nothing of the terrain, I let them make their plans. Acolytes on the Path of Dharma came and went in simple brown robes, bringing full dishes, carrying away empty ones. Some of them looked askance at us; some didn't.

"Forgive me, old friend." The abbot's voice was apologetic. "But I must ask before I pledge myself to speak untruths on your behalf. Rumor held the princess was demon-plagued. This business of a dragon….. Are you very, very sure?"

Snow Tiger's shoulders tightened.

I roused.

"Yes." Master Lo's voice was firm. "I am. I violated the sanctity of White Jade Mountain and stole the dragon's pearl. I cannot undo the folly of my youth, but I recognize its handiwork."

"But you have not seen it….. ?" the abbot persisted.

Now, please, the dragon whispered. Now. You must show them.

I breathed the Breath of Trees Growing, breathed it in, breathed it out. It was easy here. The ancient trees that grew on the mountainside aided me. I summoned the twilight. No one was looking at me. I breathed it in, taking it deep inside me, and breathed it out, flinging it like a cloak around the princess and me, bathing us both in dusk.

Someone uttered a short, startled cry.

"Come, my lady." I rose and extended my hand. She took it. "Master Lo, will you please ask the abbot to follow?"

I led her along the paths of the gorge. Master Lo and the abbot and the others trailed behind us, curious and uncertain. Somewhere, there was the sound of chanting, steady and sonorous. The sun was setting, bathing the immense carvings with their serene faces in golden light. Removing her veiled hat, Snow Tiger gazed at them in awe.

"Here." I tugged her into a recessed grotto, where the gilded figure of Guanyin resided. Her inward-looking face was filled with compassion. She sat cross-legged and held a thousand arms upraised, a seeing eye embedded in each gilded palm.

In every palm, the dragon was reflected.

Oh…..he sighed. Oh!

The others crowded behind us. I breathed slowly and deeply through the cycle of the Five Styles, reaching deeper into the twilight. This was a holy place, sanctified by centuries of prayer. I spun the cloak into a net, cast it over the entire grotto.

They saw.

A thousand pearlescent dragons coiled and uncoiled in a thousand gilded palms, in every gilded curve, beautiful and celestial and unmistakable. There was a soft sound, the sudden intake of every watcher's breath.

I was too tired to hold the twilight for long, even in this place. I warned the princess, and she donned her hat. The dragon murmured in disappointment as I released the twilight. Everyone blinked as the golden light of the setting sun returned in a rush and the images of the dragon's reflection vanished.

"I see." Abbot Hong bowed to me. "A doubting man might claim that this is merely an illusion worked by barbarian magic. I am not a doubting man. If the gods allowed you to work falsehood in this place, I have spent my life in vain."

All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but I bowed in return. "Thank you, Revered Brother."

The abbot turned to Master Lo. "I will aid you in any way I can."

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

I passed the night sleeping on a mat in a humble cell, waking to the sound of chanting. It would not be an unpleasant way to live, spending one's life in prayer and contemplation, surrounded by such beauty. I thought about the three Camaeline snowdrop bulbs nestled in a jar at the bottom of my satchel, and wondered if they would thrive here in the mountains. It seemed a fitting place for them.

No, the dragon said. It is not high enough, not cold enough. You will plant them in the snows of White Jade Mountain, and I will watch over them always, remembering you.

There was a poignant note in his tone that made my heart ache. "I pray you're right, treasured friend."

So do I. His tone brightened. Today is a good day for hope!

I smiled. "So it is."

Indeed, it felt like it. There wasn't much the abbot could do to aid us, but what aid he could give, he gave unstintingly. Our meager stores had been replenished, and we were armed with knowledge of several companies of Lord Jiang's men laying in wait for us. After the princess had, revealed herself in the marketplace, that knowledge was more valuable than gold. We had the abbot's promise not to reveal our passage. The sun was shining and I was well rested.

It was a good day for hope.

After we broke our fast, the abbot himself and a score of his monks escorted us down the gorge. At every step of the way, I marveled at the continuous carvings. On one plateau, there was an effigy of Sakyamuni reclining that was so immense, it dwarfed all the others.

Bao laughed at my enthusiasm. "Maybe you'll decide to follow the Path of Dharma after all, huh?"

"Oh, I haven't abandoned the notion of the Path of Desire," I assured him.

"Good to know." He caressed the back of my neck. "I'm looking forward to our changing guises, so I no longer have to pretend to be a celibate monk. It is difficult thinking of you as—" He froze.

"What?"

"There." Bao pointed. Ahead of us, a swaying bridge spanned the gorge. On the far side, the descending path continued around a curve. "Men's shadows, moving." His voice sharpened. "Stop! Everyone stop!"

We halted.

It didn't take long for them to reveal themselves. Ten warriors and one anxious-looking young monk came around the curve. One of the warriors carried Lord Jiang's standard, the white dragon coiling on a background of blue.

The rest carried bows, arrows nocked and aimed.

"No!" Abbot Hong cried out in anguish, spreading his hands as though to ward off an attack. "Oh, my son, what have you done? No, no, no! This is all a misunderstanding. You must not do this thing."

"Tell that to young lord Jiang Jian, torn apart on his wedding night," one of Jiang's men said grimly. He gestured with the tip of his arrow. "Move aside, Revered Brother. We do not want to spill blood in this place, especially yours."

"I will not," the abbot said with calm dignity. As one, his acolytes spread out before us, forming a wall of robed, shaven figures.

"What is it?" the princess asked in a low voice. "Who, and how many? What arms?"

"Jiang's men." I felt sick. "One of the monks betrayed us. He must….. he must have left before we showed the dragon to the abbot."

"Ten men," Bao added grimly, hands flexing on his staff. "Swords and bows. They were lying in ambush. They have arrows trained on us, my lady."

"Are we trapped?"

I glanced up the path behind us. Our only avenue of retreat would leave us utterly exposed. "Aye."

The dragon keened in alarm, panic and fury beginning to rise.

"Move!" the leader of Jiang's men shouted, gesturing violently. "I mean business, Brother! I do not want to shed your blood, but I will. Stand aside and give us the demon-princess!"

The abbot didn't budge. "Please, listen. Through no fault of your own, you have been deceived. You have—"

Without a word, the leader loosed his bow with a sharp twang. The monk standing to the right of Abbot Hong clutched his side and crumpled, a bloodstained arrowhead protruding from his robes. None of the others so much as flinched. On the far side of the gorge, the young monk who had betrayed us covered his face with his hands, his fingers trembling. The leader nocked another arrow.

"Enough!" Snow Tiger's voice echoed off the mountainside, high and fierce. She pushed effortlessly past the line of monks. "I killed Jiang Jian. It is me that you want, is it not?" She gestured behind her. "All of them, they are innocent. This is a sacred place. If I come willingly, will you promise to spill no further blood here?"

The leader hesitated. "I will."

"He lies," Bao muttered.

I thought so, too. "My lady, please!" I whispered urgently. "Do not listen, do not trust him—"

"Hush." She turned back to me, put her hand over my lips. "The time for caution is past. This may be hardest of all on you, my necessary inconvenience. I have no choice but to unleash the dragon. You will have to reach him, call him back from the abyss of madness. Can you do that for us?"

My eyes stung. "I will try."

"Good." She turned to Abbot Hong and bowed, hand over fist. "Revered Brother, I beg your forgiveness for what I am about to do here."

He bowed in reply. "You did not bring this on yourself in this lifetime, Noble Princess. I forgive you."

With obvious reluctance, the abbot and the monks stood aside to make way for her. Master Lo Feng, his face unwontedly pale, bent to attend to the injured monk.

Beside me, Bao quivered with fury. I could sense the other stick-fighters doing the same.

At the near end of the bridge, Snow Tiger untied the sash that bound her robes and freed her sheathed sword. She held it up for display, then stooped and laid it gently on the ground. Lord Jiang's leader grunted and beckoned with his arrow tip.

Hatted and veiled, she stepped onto the bridge.

It swayed under her slight weight. Her hands reached out to grasp the thick rope cables. Step by step, her head bowed, the princess traversed the gorge.

I held my breath.

Ah, gods! She didn't look dangerous—she didn't look dangerous at all. Despite knowing who she was and what she had done, the leader of Lord Jiang's men smiled with relief and lowered his bow, sure of his victory. His men followed suit, chuckling a little. Showing them her empty hands, the princess raised her veil and gazed into the leader's eyes.

And the dragon went mad.

It couldn't help it—couldn't help it. It owed nothing to logic. It was a celestial being that beheld its reflection; that was its nature. Without its reflection, the dragon was undone and severed from itself. It was already in a state of near-panic. Seeing its absence reflected in the man's pupils, fear and madness came upon it. It roared like a storm in my mind, its unleashed fury pouring through the princess, filling her with its preternatural strength. Snow Tiger seized the arrow from the bow that Lord Jiang's leader held, plunging it into his throat in one deft jab. Arterial blood sprayed the beautiful carvings as she yanked it free, whirling on her next victim, casting her veiled hat aside.

"Go!" Bao chanted, suiting actions to words and launching himself toward the bridge. "Go, go, go!"

Jiang's men were plunged into chaos, forced to fight at close quarters. Two of them had the presence of mind to peel away, taking aim at the oncoming stick-fighters. Bao planted his staff and vaulted; the others zigged and zagged behind him, trying to make themselves difficult targets. I snatched an arrow from my quiver, willing my hands not to tremble. The yew-wood bow my uncle Mabon had made for me sang, and one of the archers went down, the haft of my arrow protruding from the socket of his left eye.

I swallowed against a violent surge of nausea and nocked another arrow, but it was too late. The battle was too confused, too chaotic.

And there at the center, a slender figure in green, only this time, her robes were streaked with blood. She had an arrow in each hand now, spinning and striking, wielding them as gracefully as a dancer, dealing out death with every blow.

It was intense and brutal, and quickly over—at least for Lord Jiang's men.

Not for the dragon.

Kang was down, injured. Tortoise knelt beside him. Bao and Dai stood protectively before them, staves still in a defensive pose. Behind them all, the young monk cowered against the cliff wall.