Kingdom of the Golden Dragon (20 page)

It was about three hours before sunset when the master and his disciple opened their eyes. For a few moments they sat motionless, allowing time for their souls, which had been far away, to settle again into the reality of the surroundings in which they lived. In their trances, both had had similar visions, so no discussion was necessary.

“I suppose, master, that we will go to help the person who sent the white eagle,” said the prince, sure that this was also Tensing's decision, since that was the path signaled by Buddha: the path of compassion.

“Perhaps,” the lama replied, simply out of habit, for his determination was as strong as his disciple's.

“How will we find this person?”

“Possibly the eagle will guide us.”

They dressed in their wool tunics, threw yak skins across their shoulders, put on the leather boots they wore only on long walks and during the harsh winter, and picked up an oil lantern and their tall staffs. At their waists they bound packets of yak butter and flour for their
tsampa
. Tensing added a flask with rice liquor and a small wooden case that held his acupuncture needles, along
with a selection of his medicines. Dil Bahadur slung one of his shortest bows and a sheath filled with arrows over his shoulder. Without further words, they set out in the direction the great white bird had taken.

Nadia Santos surrendered to death. She was no longer tormented by pain, cold, hunger, or thirst. She was floating in a waking sleep, dreaming of the eagle. For moments at a time she would wake up, and then she would have flashes of consciousness in which she knew where she was and the condition she was in. She knew that her chances of survival were very slim, but by the time night enveloped her, her spirit had already liberated itself from fear.

Earlier, however, she had suffered. Once the Blue Warriors had left and she didn't hear them anymore, she made one try to drag herself up the steep cliff, but immediately realized that with her useless arm it would be impossible to climb without assistance. She didn't try to take off her parka and examine her arm, because every movement was torture, but she could see that her hand was very swollen. From time to time she blacked out from the pain, but if she concentrated on it, it was much worse. She tried to keep her mind busy thinking other thoughts.

Several times during the day she knew despair. She wept, thinking of her father, whom she would not see again; she called to Jaguar with her thoughts. Where was her friend? Had Borobá found him? Why didn't he come? Once or twice she screamed and screamed until she lost her voice. She didn't care if the men of the scorpion sect heard her, she would rather deal with them than stay there by herself, but no one came. A little later she heard footsteps, and her heart lurched with joy until she saw it was a pair of wild goats. She called to them in their
language, but could not get them to come near.

Nadia had lived her life in the warm, humid climate of the Amazon. She had never known cold. In Tunkhala, where people wore only cotton and silk, she had not taken off her sweater. She had never seen snow, and hadn't known what ice was until she saw it on an artificial skating rink in New York. Now she was shivering. In the small recess in which she was a prisoner, she was protected from the wind, and thickets of brush made it slightly less cold, but with all that she found the temperature unbearable. She curled up in a ball for hours, until her stiff body lost all feeling. Finally, when the sky began to grow dark, she felt the strong presence of death. She recognized it because she had seen it before. In the Amazon she had seen people and animals be born and die; she knew that every living creature completes the same cycle. In nature, everything is renewed. She opened her eyes, looking for stars, but as yet she could see nothing; she was sunk in absolute darkness, for the faint glow of the moon lighting the peaks of the Himalayas did not reach the ravine. Again she closed her eyes, and imagined that her father was with her, holding her. The image of the witch doctor Walimai's wife flashed through her mind, the transparent spirit who was always with him, and she wondered if it was only the souls of Indians that could come and go between heaven and earth as they pleased. She guessed that she would be able to do it, too, and decided that if that were true she would come back in spirit and console her father and Jaguar. Every thought, however, was costing her enormous effort; she wanted only to die.

Nadia let go of the bonds that held her to the world and gently drifted upward, effortlessly, without pain, as gracefully as she had risen when she turned into an eagle and her powerful wings
held her above the clouds, carrying her higher and higher toward the moon.

Borobá led Alexander to the place where he had left Nadia. The little monkey was so drained from having made the trip three times without resting that he lost his way several times, but was always able to pick up the trail again. About six in the evening they came to the narrow path that led to the Blue Warriors' cave. By then the men had tired of looking for Nadia, and had gone back to their normal routine. The frightening-looking fellow who seemed to be in charge had decided that they couldn't waste any more time on the girl who had escaped their grasp; instead, they should follow their plan and rejoin the rest of the band in accord with the instructions they'd received from the American who had hired them.

Alex observed that the ground was badly trampled and saw horse droppings everywhere; it was obvious that the bandits had been there, although he didn't see any sign of them now. He realized that he couldn't go any farther on horseback; the sounds of the hooves echoed like a giant bell; it would be impossible not to hear him, if someone were standing guard. He dismounted and let the horse go, in order not to signal his approach. On the other hand, he was sure that he couldn't catch it again even if he went back the same way.

He began to make his way up the mountain, taking cover among stones and boulders, following the course pointed out by Borobá's trembling little paw. Dragging himself on his belly, he passed within sixty yards of the entrance to the cave, where he saw three men on guard, armed with rifles. He deduced that the others must be inside, or that they had moved on to another spot, because he didn't see anyone on the slopes of the mountains. He supposed that
Nadia was in the cave with Pema and the other missing girls, but alone, and without weapons, he could not take on the warriors of the scorpion sect. He hesitated, not sure what he should do, until Borobá's insistent gestures made him doubt that Nadia was inside the cave.

The monkey kept tugging at his sleeve and pointing toward the top of the mountain. One look was enough to tell him that it would take several hours to reach the summit. He could make better time if he weren't carrying his backpack but he hated to leave his climbing gear behind.

He was torn between returning to Tunkhala to get help, which would take a lot of time, and continuing his search for Nadia. The former course might save the captive girls, but it could be fatal for Nadia if she was in trouble, which Borobá seemed to indicate. The latter choice might help his friend, but it could be dangerous for the other girls. He reasoned, however, that it would not be in the Blue Warriors' best interest to harm their captives. If they had gone to the trouble of kidnapping those girls, it was because they needed them for something.

Alexander continued his climb, and when he reached the top it was already deep night, though an enormous moon was shining like a great silver eye. Borobá looked around, confused. He jumped out of the protection of the parka and scurried around in a frenzy, screeching with anguish. Alexander realized that the monkey had expected to find his mistress there. Crazed with hope, he began to call Nadia's name in a low voice; he was afraid that echoes would carry his voice down the mountain and, in that absolute silence, reach the bandits' ears. Soon he realized the futility of continuing to search in this rugged terrain with only the light of the moon, and concluded that it would be best to wait until morning.

He settled in between two rocks, using his backpack as a pillow and sharing his food with Borobá. Then he lay quiet, with the hope that if he listened with his heart, Nadia could tell him where she was, but no voice came to him.

I have to sleep a little if I want to get my strength back, he thought, exhausted, but sleep didn't come.

Near midnight, Tensing and Dil Bahadur found Nadia. They had followed the white eagle for hours. The powerful bird flew silently above their heads and at such a low altitude that even at night they could sense it. Neither of the two was sure what they were actually seeing, but its presence was so strong that they didn't have to consult one another to know what they had to do. If they strayed, or stopped, the bird would circle, showing them the correct route. And that was how it had led them directly to the place where they were to find Nadia. Once they were there, the white eagle disappeared.

A hair-raising growl stopped the lama and his disciple short. They were a few yards from the precipice Nadia had tumbled into but they could go no farther because an animal they had never seen before, a large cat, black as night itself, blocked their path. The beast was ready to spring, hair standing up along its spine, claws unsheathed. Its gaping jaws revealed enormous, sharp teeth, and its blazing yellow pupils shone fiercely in the flickering light of the oil lamp.

Tensing's and Dil Bahadur's first impulse was self-defense, and both had to exert control not to call on the art of Tao-shu, which they trusted more than Dil Bahadur's arrows. With a great effort of will, they stood still as stone. Breathing calmly, to keep from panicking and to prevent the beast from picking up the unmistakable scent of fear, they concentrated on sending positive
energy, just as they had done with the snow leopard and the ferocious Yetis. They knew that the worst enemy, as well as the greatest ally, may well be one's own thoughts.

For an instant, which nonetheless seemed eternal, men and beast stood facing one another, until Tensing's serene voice could be heard whispering a basic mantra. The oil lamp flickered as if it was going to go out, and before their eyes, in place of the cat, appeared a strange-looking youth. They had never seen anyone with such pale skin, or anyone wearing clothes like his.

As for Alexander, he had seen a faint light that at first seemed like an illusion, but gradually became more real. Behind that glow he could see two human silhouettes moving toward him. He thought the two were from the Sect of the Scorpion, and he leaped up, alert, ready to die fighting. He felt the spirit of the black jaguar rush to his aid; he opened his mouth, and a savage roar shook the quiet night. It was only when the two strangers were but a few yards away, and he could see their faces better, that Alex realized they were not the sinister bearded bandits.

The three stared at each other with equal curiosity: on one side, two Buddhist monks wrapped in yak hides; on the other, an American youth in blue jeans and boots, with a monkey holding onto his neck. When they had collected themselves, all three joined their hands before their faces and bowed in unison in the traditional greeting of the Forbidden Kingdom.

“
Tampo kachi
,” said Tensing. May happiness be yours.

“Hi,” Alexander replied.

Borobá shrieked and put his paws over his eyes, as he did when he was frightened or confused.

The situation was so bizarre that all three laughed. Alexander desperately searched for
some word in the language of the country but couldn't remember a one. He had the impression, however, that his mind was an open book to these men. Although he didn't hear them speak a word, the images forming in his brain revealed their intentions, and he realized that they were there for the same reason he was.

Tensing and Dil Bahadur learned telepathically that the stranger was looking for a missing girl he called Eagle. They naturally deduced that it was the same person who had sent them the white bird. It was not surprising to them that the girl had the ability to transform herself into a bird, just as it was no surprise to them that the youth had appeared before their eyes in the guise of a great cat. They believed that nothing is impossible. In their trances and astral journeys, they themselves had taken on the form of different animals or beings of other universes. They also read in Alexander's mind his suspicions about the bandits of the Sect of the Scorpion, which Tensing had heard about in his travels through the north of India and Nepal.

At that instant, a cry from the skies interrupted the current of ideas flowing among the three men. They looked up, and there, once again, was the great bird. They watched it trace a tight circle and then descend in the direction of a dark precipice a little farther ahead.

“Eagle! Nadia!” yelled Alexander, first with wild joy and then with terrible apprehension.

The situation was critical, because climbing to the bottom of that ravine at night was next to impossible. Even so, they had to try, because the fact that Nadia had not answered Alexander's repeated calls, or Borobá's shrieks, meant that something very serious had happened to her. She had to be alive, the mental projection of the eagle proved that, but she could be badly injured. There was no time to lose.

“I'm going down,” Alexander said in English.

Tensing and Dil Bahadur did not need a translation to understand his decision, and they prepared to help him.

Alex congratulated himself for having brought his mountain-climbing gear and flashlight, and he was also thankful for the experience he'd acquired climbing and rappelling with his father. He put on his harness, drove a metal spike into the rocks, tested its firmness, secured his rope and, before the astonished eyes of Tensing and Dil Bahadur, he scrambled down the precipice like a spider.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Medicine for the Mind

T
HE FIRST THING
N
ADIA NOTICED
when she regained consciousness was the rancid smell of the heavy yak hide wrapped around her. She half-opened her eyes but she couldn't see anything. She tried to move, but she was immobilized; she tried to speak, but no sound came out. She felt an unbearable stab of pain in her shoulder, which within seconds spread through the rest of her body. Again she sank into darkness, with the sensation that she was falling into an infinite void that enveloped her totally. While in that state, she floated calmly, but the moment she had a spark of consciousness she felt pain shooting through her. Even in a faint, she moaned.