Daughter of Xanadu - Dori Jones Yang [71]
The next night, we went dragon hunting again and captured four more live dragons, for a total of eight.
Working together, with the villagers, Marco and Suren and I were like three brothers, laughing and joking, in high spirits. I did not realize how much tension had existed between the two of them until it broke. Unlike during the summer in Xanadu, when Suren had held deep distrust and suspicion about foreigners, he now seemed to relax into his true nature in the presence of both Marco and Little Li. This far from Khanbalik, away from the pressures of living up to others’ expectations, sturdy Suren could be himself.
At last I could talk openly and easily with Marco. The three of us talked endlessly about how we could get the fearsome creatures back to Khanbalik. The villagers could not tell male from female, and most of the creatures would probably not survive the long journey. We would need to take as many as possible. Little Li promised to make the journey with us, to ensure that at least some of the dragons would arrive alive. From that remote mountain village, he must have been thrilled at the prospect of visiting the capital and meeting the Emperor.
Suren selected a long, sharp tooth from the adult dragon killed by the blades. With Little Li’s help, he bored a hole into the tooth and threaded it with a leather thong. Then he hung the tooth from his neck. “For good luck and protection,” he explained.
Marco and the village headman kept the interpreter busy, discussing details about how to get the live dragons all the way to Khanbalik. Little Li rounded up a few men from the village to feed and care for them. The biggest difficulty would be transportation, since horses would be too skittish to transport dragons, and carts would be too bumpy. Marco’s eyes shone with zeal as he talked, and Suren was no less engaged. I sat back and watched them with pleasure.
On our last night, the villagers treated us to a big feast. Eating with their hands, they formed balls of sticky rice and dipped them into several dishes with strong fishy flavors and tart tastes that were new to me but strangely delicious. As we were finishing our meal, I heard a bang even louder than those that had frightened Principessa. We all jumped, and I nearly choked.
Little Li laughed. “Fire rats,” he said. He led us toward a crowd of village boys shouting with delight. There I saw what indeed appeared to be a fire rat scurrying around on the ground, its tail aflame, causing people to jump to get out of its way. Suddenly, it exploded with a huge bang, and everyone screamed.
“What is it?” asked Marco.
“We do this every year, at New Year’s, to scare away the evil spirits.” Little Li picked up a small section of bamboo tube and showed us some powder inside it. He poked a piece of rope into it, sealed it, and dipped the end of the rope into the fire. When the rope caught fire, he placed it on the ground. It began to scurry like a rat with its tail aflame. The “rat” exploded with a huge bang.
“What is inside?” Marco asked.
“Fire medicine. They can fly like arrows, too. Watch!”
Little Li mixed three types of powder—yellow, white, and black—then stuffed it into another bamboo tube, which he tied to a long stick. Then he planted it lightly in the dirt. I noticed a thin rope trailing out the bottom of the tube, along the ground.
Little Li took a burning stick and lit the end of the thin rope.
“Stand back!” he insisted. The fire moved slowly up the rope. Some women put their hands over their ears, and the boys jumped with delighted anticipation.
Suddenly, the stick boomed, then shot straight up into the air, like an arrow with a burning tail, trailing acrid-smelling smoke.
“Aaaaah!” we all cried out, admiring the arc of light it traced in the night sky. The stick shot down to earth a few hundred paces away and broke apart as soon as it landed.
“But how does it work?” Marco asked. I admired his curiosity.
Little Li laughed. “I show