Well, what do you know? The Dragon King of Caltrop Pond really followed through once you prodded (and bit and kicked) him enough. Just two days after I found him snoring in his bedchamber, woke him up, and extracted his promise to wring fish out of the Black Sand Creek Water Court, the first shipment arrived at Honeysuckle Croft.
One minute I was nudging Taila's hand, trying to get her to stand up and walk around before her muscles atrophied. The next, a flock of whistling ducks was flapping down from the sky. Under their bellies dangled lumpy green bundles.
I'd seen this packaging style in better times, back when Mistress Jek still went shopping in town. The stall owners would wrap purchases in fresh lotus leaves and tie them with dried grasses: a creative solution to the lack of paper and expense of twine.
In the duck demons' lead was Stripey, who landed in the middle of the yard, threw out his chest, and announced, "Ta-da! One delivery of fresh catfish and water spinach, coming right up!"
To the accompaniment of quacked instructions and rustling feathers, the duck demons started sliding the dried grass loops from their backs and arranging the bundles on the ground.
But there was no shriek of "Mr. Duck!" from Taila. She stayed slumped against the wall, staring in their general direction without registering anything.
I nudged her palm again. Hey, Taila, want to see what the ducks are up to? Let's go see what the ducks are up to!
No reaction. I looked around for help, but apart from the duck demons, it was just the two of us in the yard. With pitifully little work for Bobo these days, Mistress Jek had furloughed the bamboo viper until late spring.
Look, Taila, they brought food! Isn't that exciting? C'mon, let's go see what they brought!
Still no reaction, but Mistress Jek did shuffle around the corner. She'd gone to the back to check on the woodpile. Restocking it hadn't been a regular chore since the Jeks ran out of food and hence the need for cooking fires.
When she saw what looked like a horde of bandits unloading their ill-gotten loot on her front step, her eyes, dull-lidded from hunger, widened. She had, after all, refused to provide them safe haven.
"What's going on?" she asked, mustering the energy for a question, if not a proper bellow.
In answer, Stripey waddled to the longest bundle, undid the grass, and flipped open the lotus leaves to display – a catfish.
I trotted over for a closer inspection. I was something of a catfish expert, if I did say so myself. And indeed, Yulus and Nagi – or their chefs, more likely – had selected a beautiful, plump specimen. They'd even cleaned it to spare Mistress Jek the hassle.
"A catfish?" she breathed. She collapsed to her knees. "You brought us food?" Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Not just a catfish," Stripey declared, puffing up even more.
At his signal, the duck demons opened the other bundles to reveal a second fat catfish, bunches of water spinach for soup, three onions, a knob of ginger, and a head of garlic. No green onion to complete the classic mix of seasonings, I noted, but that didn't surprise me. So early in the year, probably only Heavenly chefs had access to green onion.
"Food for a full meal, compliments of the Dragon Kings of Black Sand Creek and Caltrop Pond. Careful with that one," Stripey warned, pointing a wingtip at the last lotus-leaf bundle. "That's rice. From us. We didn't have a good container for it."
YOU ARE READING
The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox
FantasyAfter Piri the nine-tailed fox follows an order from Heaven to destroy a dynasty, she finds herself on trial in Heaven for that very act. Executed by the gods for the "crime," she is cast into the cycle of reincarnation, starting at the very bottom...
