River of Secrets Read online

  Chapter Two

  GHOST CLAWED AT HIS meal, trying to hold it down just like Winter had taught him, so he could get a clean killing bite. But the thing just wouldn’t keep still—it flexed and wiggled even though he had it pinned, its waving arms getting in his face and making him rear back, which meant he lost his grip, which meant he had to pounce all over again.

  “You can do it,” Shiver cheered from her comfortable spot on a sunny rock nearby. Her eyes were dark as she followed the motion of his prey, and her fluffy tail twitched. “Get it!”

  “You nearly had it that time,” called another voice, from much farther away. Ghost tried to keep a firm grip on the food as he looked up and peered across the wide river to the panda who had called out to him from the opposite bank. His new friend Sunset Deepwood had shouted instructions to him about how to find food in this strange, warm, wet place. He said this prey would be worth the effort, but Ghost wasn’t sure he believed it.

  Sure enough, the strange, springy green plant that Sunset had called bamboo sprang out of his paws once again, whipping up to smack Ghost in the face. He reared back, shaking his head.

  “Grab it with your jaws,” Sunset shouted. “Near the root!”

  Ghost took a deep breath. Perhaps he had been thinking of this all wrong, chasing after the waving leaves at the bouncy end. He worked his muzzle into the base of the stand, trying to ignore the way the shoots tickled his nose, and bit down on a bamboo cane. It came away almost at once, with a satisfying snap.

  As soon as the scent of the cool green insides of the bamboo hit his nostrils, Ghost understood what Sunset had been talking about. It smelled fresh and slightly sweet, nothing at all like any of the prey he had eaten in the mountains. It smelled delicious.

  He gripped it in his jaws and crunched down, splitting the bamboo cane open. It was a struggle to tear the strips of outer bark away, but it was worth it to get to the tasty green flesh inside. He pinned the cane down and worked his teeth into it, tearing at the bark with his claws.

  “This is amazing!” he shouted back to Sunset, looking up with his mouth full of stringy bamboo.

  “I’m glad you think so,” Sunset replied. “But there’s a much easier way to get to it, young Ghost.”

  He began to explain the best way to eat the bamboo, and Ghost stopped attacking it, puzzled by the fiddly-sounding instructions. He followed Sunset’s direction and sat down on his haunches, instead of crouching over his prey like a leopard would. He used the grip pads on his paws to hold the bamboo, and then picked off the leaves with his teeth. He bundled them together and took a bite, and then almost laughed out loud at the wonderful taste—it was a different scent and texture from the inside of the cane, but just as delicious. He looked up at the waving leaves on the other canes still growing in the ground, and thought that he could happily sit here all day just munching on them.

  “Can I try some?” Shiver jumped down from her rock and padded over to him. He held out a leaf, and she sniffed it carefully before picking it up in her teeth and chewing.

  Her lips pulled back and her eyes squinted and rolled back in her head.

  “Oh! It’s just . . . ew!” She shook herself, trying to spit out the leaf. “It’s just a plant!” The look on her face was so funny that Ghost couldn’t help chortling at her, and after a disgusted snort, she joined in with Ghost’s laughter. She started cleaning her paws, trying to get the taste out of her mouth, still chuckling to herself. Ghost was so glad to see her happy. They hadn’t laughed like this since before . . .

  All at once, the scene flashed before his eyes again: Winter, their mother, falling from the ledge. In his memory, the fall seemed to grow longer and longer, so that the snow leopard was falling through the air for an impossibly long time before she hit the bottom of the Endless Maw and lay still, never to move again.

  He tried to shake off the image and focus on Shiver. She was still teasing, making a big fuss about how horrible she thought the bamboo was.

  “All the more for me, then!” he said, forcing himself to smile as he dramatically lifted the cane away from her.

  He was so glad to have his sister with him. He would have missed her so much if she’d let him leave the mountain alone. She had shown no sign of blaming him for Winter’s death, the way their other littermates had, but deep down Ghost knew that she must. After all, it was his fault. He was the one who’d tried to leap the Maw when he knew he had no chance. He was the reason Winter had gone down there in the first place.

  The guilt gnawed at him even as he stripped the bark from the bamboo cane and teased out more of the fresh, crunchy insides. He glanced over the river to where Sunset was still sitting, letting the morning sun warm his black-and-white fur.

  He is a panda, Ghost thought. And so am I, he says. So how did I end up in the mountains? Who is my real mother? Where is she now? Where am I supposed to be?

  Perhaps this new place was where he belonged? It was very different from their home on the mountain—he wasn’t really sure yet whether it was better. It was very brightly colored, with lush green moss and golden leaves and flowers that Ghost had never seen before. It was also very warm and very wet, which made sense, since the huge river rumbled through the middle of it.

  As he watched the sparkling water, a long-necked bird with a bright red leaf-shaped crest landed in the shallows almost right beside him. Shiver’s head turned and the bird’s eyes went dark—Ghost could see the instinct to hunt crossing his littermate’s face. But the bird stared right at Ghost for a moment, ruffled its feathers, and then took off again in a smooth motion.

  Behind where it had been standing, Ghost caught a glimpse of something gleaming orange and white under the water, and peered over for a better look.

  “Those are carp,” Sunset volunteered. “They’re fish.”

  “Don’t they ever come up for air?” Ghost wondered, staring at the smooth-scaled creatures under the water.

  “No, only to eat the insects that float on the surface,” said Sunset.

  Ghost glanced around, wondering what else his new friend could tell him about this place.

  “And what’s that?” he asked, pointing with his nose toward a gray-and-pink shape that leaped from branch to branch nearby.

  “A macaque monkey,” said Sunset. “And look downstream—can you see those horns?”

  Ghost looked around and saw something at the edge of the river: an animal even bigger than he was, a bit like some of the mountain goats that the leopards had hunted. It had shorter horns, and its hide was covered in long, bright golden fur.

  “That’s a takin,” Sunset said.

  “This place is crawling with prey creatures,” said Ghost. “Where are all the hunters?”

  “There are a few.” Even from all the way across the river, Ghost thought he saw Sunset glance at Shiver. “But the Great Dragon watches over all of us: predator, prey, or panda.”

  “The Great Dragon?” Ghost looked around, half expecting to see the creature he was talking about.

  “That’s right. But you won’t see the Dragon.” Sunset got to his paws, and his voice deepened and became more sonorous, carrying across the water. “It is the forest, and the sky, and the river. It is all around us, watching over us, and only the Dragon Speaker can hear its voice.”

  Beside him, Ghost heard Shiver give a small, dissatisfied mew in the back of her throat. “What nonsense. He means the Snow Cat,” she grumbled. “Right? That’s who watches over us. Why does he think it’s a . . . a whatever a dragon is?”

  Ghost shot her a glare, hoping that Sunset hadn’t heard his sister being rude.

  “Who’s the Dragon Speaker?” Ghost asked. Sunset gave a short bow, dipping his head humbly, and Ghost felt suddenly self-conscious. “Oh—it’s you?”

  That must mean his new friend was a very important panda! If he could really speak to this giant invisible creature . . .

  Perhaps the Snow Cat guided me here after all.

  Ghost wasn’t sure w
hat he should say to someone who could speak to a being that was even a little bit like the Snow Cat. He was still trying to think when the branches above his head rustled and a few strange yellow fruits dropped to the ground, missing his head by less than a claw-length. He jumped and looked up.

  “Don’t be afraid,” called Sunset. “Those are just flying squirrels.”

  Flying squirrels? Ghost thought he knew what a squirrel was, and they didn’t fly! At least in the mountains they didn’t. He peered into the tree, but he didn’t see any birds or flapping wings—just two small, furry creatures scampering along the branches. Then suddenly they leaped, throwing their paws out to the sides, and he saw that they had long flaps of fur that caught the air, letting them glide easily to the next branch.

  “Sunset, Sunset,” one of them squeaked as they flew. “Dragon Speaker, the river! The river!”

  “What’s the matter, my small friend?” Sunset answered.

  “Upriver,” the other squirrel cried. “The floodwater! It’s going down at last!”

  “What?” For a second, the panda’s shock made his gentle voice sound harsh. He seemed to take a breath and gather his thoughts before speaking again. “What do you mean, friend? Is the water really receding?”

  “Receding! Going down! Less water!” the squirrel chirruped, running up and down its branch.

  “Go up to Egg Rocks and see, Your Speakerness,” said the other. “The river path is back! Back enough for a big panda to cross, anyway.”

  Ghost didn’t quite understand all this, so he looked to Sunset, to see the other panda’s reaction. Sunset looked a little as if someone had struck him across the head with a rock, just for a moment. Then he bowed his head and looked up again with shining eyes.

  “Thank you for telling me, my flying friends! Ghost, will you go upriver with me?”

  “All right,” Ghost said, getting to his paws. “But what’s going on?”

  “For a year, since the great flood, there has been no way to cross this river,” Sunset explained. “But it sounds as if, perhaps, that time is finally over. Come with me upriver to Egg Rocks—just follow the bank; you will know the place when you see it. Then you can cross the river and join your fellow pandas!”

  Ghost’s heart began to beat faster in his chest. Would he really soon be among his own kind, for the first time in his whole life?

  “I will!” he said, and Sunset nodded to him again and then climbed down from his rock, vanishing into the lush green forest on the south side of the river.

  “Come on,” Ghost said to Shiver. “Let’s go and see what all the fuss is about!”

  Shiver got to her paws, her tail twitching with excitement, and the two of them set off. They followed the river, splashing through the shallows and across stony banks, occasionally clambering over mossy rocks and along the branches of half-submerged trees, as the river wound through the craggy landscape. Ghost was aware of other creatures moving through the trees too, birds and monkeys and a small red creature with a long stripy tail, all heading the same way.

  Finally they came to a place where the bank was wide and very muddy, as if it had been underwater only a few hours ago. There was a sound of crashing water, and Ghost saw up ahead a small waterfall, where the level of the river dropped suddenly by about the height of a grown-up snow leopard. Beyond the fall, there was a flat, calm place in the river, and five gray oval rocks, each a little bigger than Ghost’s head, that, sure enough, did look a bit like a scattered collection of huge eggs. They gleamed wet and green, as if they had been underwater too until just recently.

  Animals of all kinds were gathered around the Egg Rocks on both sides of the river. There was a great hollering and hooting as the creatures looked at the calm water and at each other. Some of the smaller animals noticed Ghost and Shiver and sprang away fearfully, but others were too busy staring, testing the water and speculating about what it all meant.

  “Has the Great Dragon finally forgiven us?” wondered a golden monkey with a squashed blue face.

  “It’s about time,” said the red creature with the stripy tail, who had climbed up to sit on the tree branch beside her. “We still don’t even know what went wrong!”

  “Goldenhorn, is that you?”

  “Yellowback! You’re alive!”

  Two takins had approached the rocks and were calling to each other across the water. The one on Sunset’s side stepped forward and dipped his hoof into the stream. He seemed to steel himself, then put his head down and trotted determinedly out into the water. It splashed up to the middle of his legs, but no farther. Finally he reached the other side, and Ghost took a step back as Yellowback rushed forward to butt horns with his friend Goldenhorn.

  “Shall we?” Ghost said, turning to Shiver.

  “Let’s go! I want to see what’s on the other side!” Shiver mewed.

  Gingerly Ghost stepped out into the water. It wasn’t quite as cold as the streams of melting ice in the mountains, but he had never been up to his belly in rushing water before. The sensation of it churning over his paws made him feel unsteady. Shiver seemed to be a little more poised than him, as usual, but she was also smaller, and her lungs were still weaker than they should have been. He looked back, thinking he might offer to carry her on his back, but he saw the determined look on her face as she held her head up above the water, and stopped himself.

  Together they made their way across the slippery stones, struggling to keep a paw hold against the ever-flowing water. Ghost tried to dig his claws in between the rocks, but found that it only unbalanced him more. One paw slid out from under him, and he heard the assembled animals gasp as he caught himself against one of the big oval rocks, his heart hammering. Suddenly he felt very aware of the waterfall, only a few bear-lengths away, and the much deeper river beyond. . . .

  “You can do it, Ghost!” called a voice. Ghost looked up and saw Sunset appearing at the far bank. The animals all parted respectfully to let him through. Ghost steeled himself and pushed off from the rock, careful where he was placing his paws. He fixed his gaze on the bank and didn’t stop walking, slowly and steadily, until he felt his belly lift out of the water. He paused on the more solid ground for a moment and turned, watching with a glow of pride as Shiver pulled herself up to join him, gasping for breath, eyes bright with triumph.

  As soon as Ghost looked toward Sunset and took in a deep breath of his own, his nostrils filled with the strong, tasty scent of bamboo. It was much more plentiful on this side of the river, and he sniffed a few times, his stomach rumbling.

  “Welcome, friends,” said Sunset, walking down to the edge of the river to greet them. As he approached, Ghost realized that he was much larger than he’d seemed when the river had been between them.

  Is this how big pandas grow? he wondered. Will I be this big in a few years’ time?

  The Dragon Speaker made an imposing figure close up, and not just because of his size. There was a scar down his flank that looked as if it had never quite healed properly.

  Then Sunset bowed his head to Ghost’s, and gently touched their noses together. Ghost felt a rush of warmth behind his ears, and another memory of Winter rose in his mind—but this time there was no grief or guilt behind it. He remembered her tongue, rough but very gentle, as it cleaned the soft cub-fur of his face, in their safe den, far away from here.

  For the first time since her death, the thought of her made him happy.

  “The Great Dragon must have sent you to us,” said Sunset. “Welcome home, young panda.” He lowered his muzzle even further to touch his nose gently to Shiver’s forehead too. His warm breath stirred the long fur around her ears. “And to you, too, my friend. Both of you, follow me.”

  He turned and walked away, and Ghost paused only to shake the river water off his fur before hurrying after him.

  They didn’t walk very far, climbing up a long sloping path that looked like it had been trodden into the undergrowth by many large paws over a long period of time. There was bamboo
all around, growing from between cracks in the rock, and the scent that Ghost associated with Sunset grew stronger and stronger. Then, finally, they emerged into a clearing, where the land dipped to form a grassy hollow, open to the bright blue sky.

  And there, waiting for them, were more of the large bear creatures. All of them had the same black markings around their eyes and ears and across their backs, and the same surprised and curious expression in their bright black eyes.

  Ghost stepped forward, his heart in his throat. There were so many of them! A whole pack of pandas, just like him.

  At last, he had found where he belonged.

  Chapter Three

  RAIN KICKED OUT AT a rock in her path, and it skittered off down the mountainside in a satisfying shower of pebbles.

  That rock’s going the right way, she thought. Down, toward the river, toward the Prosperhill and Sunset Deepwood. Where I should be going.

  She knew she shouldn’t indulge herself with thoughts like that. She’d agreed to this, hadn’t she? She could have said no. Instead . . .

  She gazed ahead with a sigh. Leaf, Plum, and Dasher were making their way up the slope, walking close together as she trailed behind. Leaf and Dasher were making attentively slow progress as they fussed over the older panda, while Rain followed, feeling awkward and regretting everything.

  She regretted letting Leaf persuade her that it was worth traveling to some distant mountain on the slim chance she might turn out to be the next Dragon Speaker. That was obviously nonsense—Leaf might be, but Rain? There was no way, and no way they could be sisters, either. If she really was someone else’s daughter, a triplet, and her destiny entrusted to a tiger who lived in a cave, she was pretty sure Peony would have mentioned it.

  She also regretted letting the little red panda persuade her to eat termites. There had been no bamboo for the last feast, or the one before, but she should have stuck to the dry roots that she’d found and not let him talk her into sticking her tongue under that rock. The insects had tasted sharp and bitter, and she thought she could still feel one wiggling between her teeth.