routine, a complete lack of surprises and no decisions to be made. Part of him yearned for that safety and certainty.
“I couldn’t bear to be in the same monastery as Fo Tu Deng.”
Tao realised that the monastery he had been imagining no longer existed. Now that Fo Tu Deng was there, it would not be the same. He’d probably made himself abbot by now. The monk from Tianzhu had fooled Tao at first, convincing him that he was a venerable and holy man. But he was a fraud, a selfish man using the words of Buddha to benefit himself. In order to save his own skin, he had been happy to side with the nomads. He didn’t deserve to be called a monk.
“You could find another monastery.”
“No. That is not my destiny,” Tao said. “I don’t think I met you merely to share breakfast on a mountain. I have to face my future and be your dragonkeeper.”
The boy and the dragon finally left their camp and walked in silence for some time. Clouds covered the sky again. It was not a cold day, but Tao felt chilly. He couldn’t erase the images of the corpses in the cave, the bits of clothing still hanging on the bones. And his dreams hadn’t entirely left him – the cries of the terrified villagers lingered in the corners of his mind.
“We swore a blood oath. We are bonded as brothers,” Kai said suddenly. “But you are not yet my dragonkeeper.”
Tao stopped walking. Now that Tao had left everything he knew and loved behind, had the dragon changed his mind?
“You cannot be until I hand you the dragonkeeper’s mirror.” Kai clapped Tao on the back with his forepaw. “There is no need to be melancholy. In the meantime, I will oversee your training.”
Tao turned to the dragon. “What training?”
“A dragonkeeper needs many skills, and you have not yet mastered your
qi
power.”
“
Qi
power? What’s
qi
power?” Kai had never mentioned training before. “Did you make that up?”
“I did not! As you know,
qi
is the spiritual energy that exists in all creatures. Dragonkeepers, and dragons, learn how to increase their store of
qi
and then to harness it.”
Kai had told Tao about the second sight that all dragonkeepers had, but he hadn’t mentioned other powers.
“Dragons have unusual skills – you have your shape-changing and mirage skill,” Tao said. “But I didn’t know dragonkeepers also had powers. How do they use this
qi
power?”
“In many ways. Usually it manifests in strength. I have heard of a dragonkeeper who could throw with deadly accuracy and speed, and one who could leap long distances. Your ancestor Ping had powerful
qi
.”
Kai often spoke about the young girl who had been his first and only dragonkeeper. She had cared for him since the moment he hatched, and she had been like a mother to the orphaned dragonling. Tao knew he could never live up to Ping’s memory, but as well as his own
qi
, he also had his brother’s. As he was dying, he had poured his
qi
into Tao’s body. And Wei had been a very special person. His
qi
was powerful too, Tao was sure of that.
“What was Ping’s
qi
power?” Tao asked.
“She was able to focus it and defend herself from blows and weapons.”
“I have my staff for that.”
“Once she killed a man with a bolt of
qi
.”
“I won’t be using Wei’s
qi
to hurt anybody.”
Kai was quick to defend Ping. “She was protecting Danzi. That was her job.”
“Are you sure I have
qi
power?”
“All dragonkeepers do,” Kai said. “Some have potent powers as Ping did. Others have powers that are less … significant. One could boil water by holding the pot in his hands, so I heard.”
Tao thought that sounded like a useful skill.
“How can I find out what my
qi
power is?”
“Perhaps it is some small skill you already have, that you can enhance,” Kai said. “What can you do?”
Tao thought hard. “I can memorise sutras.”
“I suppose you could bore our enemies to death.”
“I can whistle.” That was the one thing he’d been able to