Jade blushed. “I am foolish to think such thoughts.”
“But you think them all the same.” The Old One smiled. “And why not? Everyone desires eternal life. You shall have it—though not in the way you imagine. And not in this time or place.”
He handed her a small bag. “The time is coming. Inside you will find a jade amulet, hanging on a leather thong. Its magic will protect you in this life and the next. Wear it close to your heart and do not let it leave your possession. For in the hands of another it will bring a curse—to him and to his children and to his children’s children. And it will not end until the white jade tiger sleeps again.”
Bright Jade took the amulet from the bag. It was carved in the shape of a tiger: watchful, ready to spring. The jade was white, almost translucent. In her hands it shimmered like moonlight.
“Why are you giving it to me?” she asked, placing it round her neck.
“There is a light in you,” he said. “A light that will shine far.”
She frowned, not understanding. “And the tiger, how will it protect me?”
“You will know when the time comes.” Without another word, he slipped away.
And now the time had come. Bright Jade and the others were ordered to accompany the dead Emperor into the tomb. One by one they stepped down the ramp beneath the earth, through the vault of warriors.
Bright Jade passed between the long lines of archers and infantry, feeling their eyes upon her, eyes so life-like she could almost read their secrets. She trembled at the force carved within them, feeling at any moment they might spring into action—like the tiger she wore, next to her heart.
They reached the end of the vault and began to enter the Celestial Kingdom where the Emperor would reign forever. Bright Jade paused to adjust a hairpin, while the others slipped by in a kaleidoscope of brilliant silks and brocades. As the last one passed, Bright Jade reached inside her gown and clasped the amulet.
A mist swirled up from the depths of the earth, shrouding her in a pale purple haze. Dream-like, she felt herself rising, rising...until she could feel no more.
Somehow, time passed. It wilted through the summer, rustled through autumn and stormed into January, bringing snow for Jasmine’s thirteenth birthday.
“You’ve been looking forward to this for ages,” her father said. “You’re sure you don’t want a party?”
“Positive. All I want is—” She paused. “There’s nothing I really want.” Except to feel whole again.
The dreams helped, even when they came in puzzling bits and pieces mixed with fragments of the nightmare. For the most part, they unfolded as they had in the beginning, clear and luminous. She felt strangely drawn to Bright Jade, and when the dreams came, she welcomed them as a refuge.
Chapter 3
“Lasagne!” Jasmine smelled it the moment she opened the door. She raced into the kitchen and took a deep breath. The delicious aromas of meat, garlic, tomato sauce and mozza-rella melted through her whole being. “Just the way I like it, with a dash of cinnamon, right?”
Her father grinned. “Right you are. I certainly have you well-trained.”
Jasmine bit into a slice of French bread, still warm from the oven. “Crusty on the outside—a perfect ten for that, Dad.” She popped the rest into her mouth, closing her eyes to savour the taste. “Mmm! That tastes like more.”
“Not till you’ve set the table. I remember training you for that, too.”
“OK, OK. I think this calls for candles. Can I get them?”
“Sure. Get the red ones—they’re in the dining room, top drawer of the hutch.”
Jasmine hummed as she opened the drawer and took out the candles. As she was reaching for the candlesticks she noticed a shiny folder with the words Pacific Travel. She raised the flap and peered inside. Plane tickets! And a sheet of white paper with Itinerary printed across the top. Dates, times—Vancouver—Shanghai, Beijing—weren’t those places in China? —airlines, luggage information—
“Dinner’s served. Have you got the candles?”
“Coming.” Quickly she closed the drawer, her mind spinning. We’re going on a trip. That’s why we’re having such a great dinner. He’s going to make a big announcement about our summer holidays—wait a minute. She stopped abruptly, holding the burning match in her hand. The dates she had seen were in February. “Ow!”
“Need a hand?” Her father struck a new match and lit the candles. “Please be seated, my dear,” he said formally.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she replied automatically. French bread, her father’s specialty. Lasagne with spinach noodles, her favourite. Tossed green salad with homemade dressing. And for dessert—
“Dad, did you by any chance make raspberry mousse for dessert?” Raspberry mousse was her all-time favourite, served only on special occasions.
“Jasmine,” he said, smiling, “you know me too well.”
“Just a lucky guess.” She did know him welL Well enough to know he had something up his sleeve. Raspberry mousse and lasagne on a weekday in February? The last time they’d had such a feast was one month ago, on her birthday. There was a reason for all this, and seeing that travel folder clinched it. Still, she’d play along for awhile and let him tell her in his own way, in his own time.
“How was school today?”
Jasmine swallowed another mouthful of lasagne. “Best ever,” she said. “The lasagne, I mean. But school was OK too. We’re learning about China. Did you know that nearly one out of every four people in the world lives in China? And we’re doing shadow puppet plays about Chinese folktales. My group is doing a story about a dragon and I’m making all the scenery—the river and a pagoda and rain-clouds, and we just cut the stuff out of paper and for colour we put in cellophane so the light shines through and—”
“Hold it!” Her father laughed. “Once you get going, there’s no stopping you. Don’t let your dinner get cold. Here, have some more bread.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking her fourth piece. “But you were the one who asked.”
“Fair enough,” he said.
They ate in silence for awhile, enjoying the meal. Now and then Jasmine looked up and caught his eye. He winked and smiled.
“You’re like Mrs. Butler,” she said.
“How’s that? Does she have a moustache like mine?”
“No, silly. She always winks.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I like it
