I keep thinking about the bearded man hitting the water. Every few steps I want to laugh again, but Zuobituo hasn't said a word. I glance up at her. She doesn't turn.
‘Hang on. Let me look at your arm.’
I lift her wrist a little. The split is black round the edges. I was too busy running to look closely before; now I can see a small piece sticking up beside it, a faint pink glow underneath.
‘What do we do with this? Wash it first?’
‘This damage will repair itself.’
I turn her arm slightly. The old blade mark is still there on the other side, though its edges aren't as obvious as they were yesterday morning.
‘That bit looks better.’
‘It repaired a little while I sat in meditation last night. A Thunder Blade wound is harder to repair than damage from those staffs.’
‘Oh. Is there anything I can help with?’
She doesn't answer straight away. I slip my other hand under her wrist. My palm's getting sweaty; I keep it away from the jagged edge.
‘OK. I’ll just keep holding it, then.’
Her chrysanthemum face stays tilted towards her arm. ‘Peach, you were already safe.’
‘Hm?’
‘When you stepped back to me, they wanted to arrest you too. You will still be in danger travelling with me.’
‘Ignore those man-babies and their power-up screams. Too much shonen manga.’
She doesn't answer that either. I steady her hand.
‘You're not a monster!’
I pick a leaf off her wrist. ‘You saved me. I'll always remember that. Don't you forget it either, OK?’
The leaf sticks to my finger. It takes two flicks to get it off. I start walking, catch my toe on a root and quickly step over it.
‘Argh. Roots everywhere. I can’t see where I’m stepping.’
I pick my way round the root, lifting her wrist clear of it.
The path is narrow. Leaves brush my shoulder along the outer edge while she bends under the low branches, stopping and starting with me. My backpack slides down my arm. I shrug a few times, trying to get the strap back up, then give up for now.
‘Peach, your strap.’
‘I know. I'll do it in a minute.’
Her uninjured hand reaches over and pushes it back onto my shoulder.
I roll my shoulder under the strap. ‘Oh. Thanks.’
The ground gets drier; mud stops clinging to my shoes. I still have to watch where I put my feet on the uphill stretches. Round a bend, a stand of thin bamboo comes into view. Wind bends the tops together, leaves brushing with a soft rush.
I stop to change hands. ‘Where are we going now?’
Zuobituo lifts her face towards the path through the bamboo. ‘That is the road to Tiantai.’
‘Is there somewhere to sit? I mean, with a backrest.’
‘I remember Tiantai as a thriving place. Travellers from many countries stayed at the Number One Inn the World.’
Just thinking about taking off my backpack loosens my shoulders. ‘Ooh, Number One eh. Let's go, then.’
‘It has been a long time since my last visit. I do not know what it is like now.’
‘We can have a look. Better than walking forever.’
She studies the path, then shifts left, giving me the smoother side. ‘First we shall rest in Tiantai. Then we can go on to the capital together.’
‘Sounds good.’
It's cooler inside the bamboo grove. A thin layer of fallen leaves covers the ground. I wipe my free hand dry on my trousers and swap it under her wrist.
The bamboo thins ahead. Sunlight patches the path, and I stretch up on my toes to look for rooftops. Instead, there's someone sitting beside a large rock.
‘Someone's over there.’
The person's leaning back against the rock, wearing a hat and a long white robe that reaches the ground.
I tread more quietly. ‘Someone's meditating.’
‘From the attire, I would say this is a pilgrim from the Western Golden Country.’
‘The Golden Country?’
The pilgrim looks so absorbed from behind. ‘I’ll go and see if they notice us going past.’
‘Very well. I shall wait here.’
‘I'll wave when it's safe.’
I slowly lower Zuobituo's hand, waiting until she has her arm supported before I step off the path. A few slender clumps of bamboo stand beside the rock. I squeeze between them. Dry leaves crackle under my shoes, and I stop at once.
Two more careful steps take me round to the pilgrim’s shoulder. I bend down a little.
Under the brim, two black holes stare back at me.
No eyes. No nose. Two rows of bare teeth.
‘AH! S—skeleton!’