Chapter 233 — Sorrow

And upon the head of the Dog God, the most striking feature was the pair of eyes. By their material they too seemed black stone, yet the two stones set within the sockets were wholly unlike those around them—purer, deeper. In the distance the fire blazed high, and its light was mirrored only in that pair of eyes; in a daze one felt they held a spirit, gazing silently back at Xiao Bai.

Xiao Bai's heart suddenly gave a jolt, and she stepped back. At once the pressure upon her whole body eased, and her senses cleared. Frowning slightly, she looked once more at the statue, gave a cold laugh, and said, "So there is even a restrictive spell here to beguile the mind." Then, thoughtful, she pondered a while, and a trace of confusion crept into her voice as she murmured, "But this is plainly a Daoist art of the Central Plains—how does it come to be here?"

She brooded silently for a moment, then gave a slight shake of her head and cast the idle thought aside; for the purpose that had brought her here, this was certainly not what she had come to investigate. She studied the statue anew, and at last her gaze settled once more upon that lifelike pair of eyes. She seemed to hesitate, but then reached out and pressed lightly upon those eyes, black and pure and deep.

Within the ancient cave a dull rumbling suddenly arose—not loud, yet it seemed to set the whole spacious cavern trembling. There before Xiao Bai the ancient Dog God statue slowly sank, descending into the earth amid that low resonance, until the greater part of its body was buried and only the dog's head remained above the ground.

Behind the statue appeared a stretch of smooth stone wall. Unlike the surrounding rock, it seemed shrouded in a faint black mist that blurred it from view. But this could no longer trouble Xiao Bai. A faint smile touched her lips; she stepped forward, raised her hand, and swept her sleeve. A light breeze at once rolled out from beneath her hand and passed across the stone wall, dispersing the black mist in an instant.

Then, out of the deep darkness of the wall, a single point of golden light suddenly surfaced. Moments later, another appeared; point after point of golden radiance, like a divine portent suddenly descending upon the mortal world, welled forth in a spring across the stone face, forming scene upon scene of wondrous pictures and characters—so bright that even Xiao Bai, standing some distance off, had her face faintly lit by the reflected gold.

Xiao Bai gazed at the mysterious patterns and writings that emerged one after another, rings of light revolving about them, her eyes flowing along line by line. Before her lay the final secret of the ancient shaman race, passed down through countless ages. Her gaze leapt and lingered, now fixed, now delighted; and at last she saw the image of a giant fire dragon roaring skyward, fierce and untamable.

Xiao Bai drew a deep breath, and a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. Then she confirmed it once more, and half closed her eyes as if silently committing it all to memory, engraving those pictures and characters upon her heart.

When she opened her eyes again, that brimming, waterlike gaze swept across the stone wall, and she murmured to herself, "To think those fellows actually left such a trick behind. Could they have known the shaman race was doomed?"

So saying, she smiled faintly, as though disinclined to trouble herself over the affairs of ancients from who knew how many years past, and was about to turn away—when suddenly her brows knit and her gaze snapped taut, falling upon the very end of that glittering array of pictures and characters. Beneath the image of the rampant, untamable fire dragon, there seemed to be a small patch of black mist unlike the rest, still clinging to the stone wall.

Xiao Bai felt a flicker of surprise. She pondered a moment, and in the end was unwilling to let it slip; just as she was about to examine it, something stirred in her heart, and she whirled about, her gaze turning instantly cold as she looked.

The vast cavern was utterly empty. Only the burning fire gave out from time to time the crack and pop of splitting wood; apart from the young shaman still lying unconscious on the ground, there was not a single shadow of a person.

Xiao Bai's gaze drifted over the young shaman, then carefully surveyed the surrounding cave. Certain at last that nothing was amiss, she frowned slightly and slowly turned back around.

Could it be that she had been too long in this uncanny place of an alien race, and had grown a little jumpy herself?

Xiao Bai shook her head with a wry smile, steadied herself, then lifted her hand. A breeze swept out, a little stronger than before, and after a moment the remaining patch of black mist finally scattered.

Upon the stone wall, sure enough, there were several more lines of characters.

Xiao Bai's spirits rose, and she looked closely. Moments later, a look of mingled joy and astonishment suddenly surfaced on her face, and she blurted out, "So—so the art of summoning souls is here..."

But as her gaze moved on, that joy gradually faded, replaced by a mounting gravity and confusion. When at last she had read all the text, she slowly stepped back; as if possessed of a will of its own, that small patch of black mist closed in again and once more shrouded those mysterious lines.

Xiao Bai bowed her head slightly and for a long while was silent. At length she gave a soft sigh and said quietly, "So that is how it was—that is how the ancient shaman race met its end. This... this, then, what is to be done? Should I tell him of these things?"

It seemed she had suddenly met with a great perplexity, and for a time she stood irresolute.

The black mist scattered by the wind slowly gathered once more, and the characters and patterns that had shone with brilliant gold were gradually veiled again. Xiao Bai slowly turned; behind her the low rumbling sounded once more, and the Dog God statue rose back into place, covering over that secret.

In the ancient cave all seemed to have returned to its former calm. Xiao Bai's figure paced slowly out, walking very slowly, her air heavy with thought; yet beneath the bright firelight, her figure at last vanished from the cave.

Silence descended upon the place once more. How long passed, none could say; the ancient Dog God statue gazed silently upon all within the cave, light mirrored in its eyes, so very deep.

Suddenly, the body that had lain upon the ground stirred. The young Miao shaman cautiously clambered up and peered toward the cave entrance. All there was still and quiet, without a sound—plainly the mysterious white-robed woman had already gone.

Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief, the body that had been so taut slowly relaxing. With a bitter smile he murmured, "That was close. Had it not been for our tribe's art of self-sealing the spirit, extinguishing all six senses, I truly could not have fooled her..."

Then his gaze suddenly grew fervent; he spun about and looked toward the Dog God statue.

Among the Miao, the gods had always been held in awe, and this statue, enshrined since ancient times, most of all. From childhood to manhood this young man had not so much as touched the statue—rarely even looked it straight in the face, for by tribal law that too was a grave irreverence.

But now the blazing fire was mirrored in his eyes, and it seemed his very body began to burn. He gazed at the statue, and the statue's eyes seemed to gaze at him.

Then, as if some immense invisible force were driving him on from behind, the young shaman clenched his jaw and walked toward the statue step by step. In the ancient god's eyes was mirrored that ever-nearing figure, and they seemed to take on a trace of sorrow.