do better than the other novices.
“Your
qi
power might be an ear-splitting whistle that will make people’s ears bleed.”
Tao was horrified at the thought of doing something so cruel. “I can light fires.”
“All humans can do that. But perhaps you will develop the ability to light fires spontaneously.”
Tao didn’t mention his skill at finding worms. He wasn’t in the mood for more dragonish jokes at his expense.
When Ping unexpectedly became a dragonkeeper, Kai’s father, an old and wise dragon, had trained her. In dragon terms Kai was young, and he had spent more than four hundred years living in the confines of the dragon haven. As far as Tao knew, Ping was the only dragonkeeper Kai had known, so his knowledge of them was scant.
“Your
qi
power may take another form,” Kai was saying. “It may need a little time to develop.”
“I suppose when you say ‘a little time’ you’re talking in dragon terms and that means ten or twenty years.”
“Perhaps fifty.”
Wei had given his
qi
to Tao for a purpose. What purpose, he didn’t know. He owed it to his brother to find out.
“But I can’t feel my
qi
. How can I access it?”
“Your
qi
is dormant. You will need to do some exercises to help wake it.”
Kai demonstrated some
qi
concentration exercises – focusing on an ant crawling across a rock, counting the leaves on a tree. Tao tried them. After years of meditation, those things were not difficult for him.
“After you have located your
qi
, you must learn to harness it, to bring it forth when you need it.”
Tao sat on a rock and stared at the distant mountains. “How far is it to the dragon haven?”
Kai thought for several minutes, as if composing a long answer, but when he eventually spoke, his reply was short. He pointed to high mountains in the distance.
“It is many
li
from here.”
The mountains were a long way away.
“But we’re closer to it than when we left Yinmi, aren’t we?”
“Much closer,” Kai said. “But we cannot travel through the mountains in the winter. I could do it, but you would not survive.”
Tao wriggled his toes. His straw sandals were already coming apart and they weren’t suitable for a winter journey.
“We have plenty of time for a quest,” Kai said.
The dragon continued along the path, snuffing the earth like a dog following a scent, and then he stopped to scrape up the wet earth with his talons.
Tao knew Wei’s
qi
was inside him, but he couldn’t find it, couldn’t feel the beginnings of any sort of power. When Kai wandered off the path to examine some leaves, Tao repeated the concentration exercises Kai had shown him. Then he picked up a stone to test his throwing skills, hurling it as far as he could. The stone flew lazily into the air and then plummeted down almost immediately.
He heard a sound like small bells ringing. “You throw like a girl.” Tao hadn’t realised that Kai was watching him.
Apart from his sister Meiling, there was the only one other girl Tao had ever been friendly with – the nomad, Pema. She had a good throwing arm. He wished he could throw as well as she did.
Tao’s shoulders sagged. “Throwing isn’t something you learn in a monastery.”
“Do not concern yourself. You will harness your
qi
and find your
qi
power … eventually.”
“I don’t want a power that will hurt anyone,” Tao said.
“What sort of
qi
power would you like to have?”
Tao thought for a moment. “I’d like to have the power to bring peace to Huaxia.”
“A dragonkeeper’s
qi
power must benefit dragons.”
Tao hadn’t considered that.
“Kai, we must stop dawdling. We’ve hardly made any progress since breakfast.”
The dragon blew a stream of mist through his nostrils. That usually meant he was annoyed.
“You’ve eaten well today. Now isn’t the time to be hunting.”
Kai was still sniffing the path.
“I am not hunting, I am tracking.”
Fear suddenly gripped Tao. “Tracking what? Not that creature we