Page 99 of Tiger's Voyage

“Maybe they commute to work.”

Mr. Kadam laughed dryly. “Yes. Perhaps.”

I picked up a paper with a picture of a Chinese dragon dance. “I saw one of these dances at the wedding I went to with Li.”

I handed the picture to Kishan as Mr. Kadam nodded and explained, “The dragon dance is typically seen during the Chinese New Year. It honors the dragon and asks it to bestow good things for the coming year. Dragons bring the rain, watch over waterways, guard treasure, and bestow strength, wealth, good fortune, and fertility. In centuries past, the Chinese people have even called themselves the Children of the Dragon.

“At a wedding, the newlywed couple asks the dragons to bless their marriage; at New Years, those requests would be applied to all of the citizens. Incidentally, I’ve also been doing some research on colors. It appears that every color has different powers and characteristics. The red and black dragons are fierce and destructive. They can cause violent storms; they battle in the clouds and are said to be the source of lightning and thunder.

“Black dragons are considered evil and deceptive. Reds are associated with all the symbols of red: blood, temper, anger, love, fire, passion, volcanoes. Blues are more peaceful. They like ice and cold waters. Golds are the kings and queens of dragons; they hoard wealth. Greens can heal and promote wellness but also cause earthquakes, spew acid, and eat humans. Whites are reflective and wise; they are seen only rarely, tell half-truths, are omens of death, and their scales shine like mirrors.”

“Sounds great.”

Kishan put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

“Remember, Miss Kelsey, that this is all research. Your dragons could be similar to these or completely different.”

“I know.”

“Half of my research on gourds was never applicable, remember?”

“Yes. I remember. But still it’s nice to be prepared.”

Kishan suggested, “Perhaps you’d better go over the ways to kill them, just in case.”

Mr. Kadam agreed and went on for another two hours describing different types of dragons and their tendencies. He spoke of the Indian serpent kings, of crystal palaces beneath the ocean where dragons dined on opals and pearls and were served by crabs and fish.

He talked about weather patterns caused by dragons such as waterspouts, typhoons, and hurricanes. He spoke of bearded dragons, hairy dragons, long tailed, short tailed, five clawed, four clawed, some that could fly, some that lived in caves, some that breathed fire, and he named them: Ao Guang, Ao Qin, Ao Run, and Ao Shun, the Chinese dragons of the four compass points. He didn’t know what the fifth dragon would be called.

When Mr. Kadam was satisfied that we knew everything there was to know about dragons, he suggested heading up to the wheelhouse to peruse some of the captain’s maps. When I mentioned having lunch on the upper deck, he said we’d be relying on the Golden Fruit because he’d sent all the staff ashore for a day off, including the captain and his first mate.

I retrieved the Golden Fruit as Mr. Kadam carefully gathered his notes and locked them away again in the desk drawer. Then the three of us went up to the wheelhouse. He brought the kimono with him so he could compare maps. When we arrived, he pulled out a large laminated map of the Bay of Bengal. The Fruit made sandwiches and a tray of sliced melon, which I offered to Mr. Kadam but he waved it away, so intent was he in his studies of the map. Kishan and I ate without him.

When I was finished, I picked up the kimono and traced the red dragon before laying it out, dragon-side down, on the shelf above the row of monitors. I put my finger on the Shore Temple and followed the line of stitching over to the red dot, the first of the seven pagodas. The red dot grew, and my hand began to glow. Its threads came undone and started restitching themselves with an invisible needle. They disappeared around the side of the kimono.

I nervously called for Kishan and Mr. Kadam, who were both leaning over the map, as I flipped over the kimono. The red stitches were still moving until they reached the red dragon. The dragon blinked and roared before settling into the fabric again.

Panicked, I exclaimed, “What did I do? What’s happened?”

Mr. Kadam hurried over and put his hand on my arm but then froze. “Can you feel that, Kishan?”

“Yes.”

“What? What is it?” I asked. They both turned to the window and looked out at the ocean.

“Somebody tell me. What’s going on?”

Kishan put his hands on my shoulders. “It’s the ship, Kells. We’re moving.”

15

The Red Dragon’s Star

“We’re moving? How is that possible?”

“I’m not certain.” Mr. Kadam quickly checked the ship’s instruments. “Everything’s off. We should still be at anchor.”

I picked up the kimono and flipped it around again. “Mr. Kadam. Look at this.”