Driving the Last Spike Ch. 02

Chang arched his head, his expression one of dissent. As he opened his mouth to speak, Qiang dipped his head and raised a claw.

"Please, hear me out."

Chang closed his mouth and leaned back. He indicated with a nod of his head Qiang should continue.

"Thank you." He turned his attention back to Sebastian. "You see, you aren't a freshly hatched dragon. You were an adult, albeit a young adult, when you became a dragon. A young adult who I assume had a mother who taught you at least basic manners. Teachings that, more often then not, you don't show to their best advantage." He gave Sebastian a pointed look.

"Now that is just low."

"Perhaps. But is it untrue?"

"No," Sebastian muttered.

Chang cocked his head in consideration, then nodded. "I don't think that is an entirely unfair criticism," he conceded. "I would point out, though, that the flaws we find in others oftentimes reflect back upon ourselves."

Dakota leaned against Sebastian and looked up into his face. She ran her hand through the ruff along his jaw and smiled. "It's OK, we love you anyway."

Sebastian nuzzled his head against Dakota. "Well, that makes it all better, then."

"Now, then. The phrase 'stuffed-shirt fancy-pants' isn't something I would expect out of anybody over the age of five. Which is just about the mentality I was dealing with in Merryweather. A five-year-old with magic."

"That had to be a trial for you," Sebastian observed with a smile.

Qiang nodded. "It was. However, Merryweather was also the only thing, outside of fisticuffs with me, I ever saw Owen Connolly smile at. So in my view that alone more than justified his presence there..."

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"Well, if your source for how that title is determined is Merryweather, then everybody who isn't him is a stuffed-shirt fancy-pants."

At the mention of his name, Merryweather looked up from his chocolate. "It's true," he confirmed. "Everybody is."

Qiang smiled in spite of himself. "And why is that?"

Merryweather took another bite. "'Cause," he said around his mouthful. "Everybody is trying to live up to some silly, boring standard." He swallowed. "Not me. I'm just me, I got nothing to live up to and nothing to live down neither." He finished the chocolate. "Can I have some more, please?"

"Merryweather," the newcomer said, "Haven't you had enough?"

Merryweather leaned in close to Qiang and waved him over conspiratorially. Qiang leaned in closer to the grig's perch in the tree.

"That's what I mean," he explained. "Always worrying about the ways things should or shouldn't be and not just taking them for what they are."

Qiang nodded sagely. "I see."

"Good. I figured anybody with chocolate can't be like him." Merryweather conspicuously eyed the last piece in Qiang's hand. "So, um, the chocolate..."

Qiang regarded the last piece. "Well," he said after brief consideration. "It seems I should at least offer him some. To be polite, you know." Qiang handed the last piece to the figure across form him who took it with a smile.

"Argh!" cried Merryweather as the last piece was taken. "You're as bad as he is!" He crossed his arms and pouted.

"I should mention," Qiang said, "That the going price is a name."

"Orin," he said, taking a bite. "And you are?"

"Qiang."

Orin said as he finished the chocolate, "If we are going to speak of courtesy, it might better be spoken in a true form."

Qiang considered the statement. From what he could tell, both Orin and Merryweather presented themselves in their true forms. To hear Merryweather speak, he wouldn't bother doing anything otherwise. But here Qiang stood, looking completely human and being completely otherwise. He nodded and took a few steps back.

His dragon form over-filled the space his human form had previously occupied. Orin had to move to make room. Though the look of surprise may have had as much to do with the step back as space concerns. It felt good to be in this form again. He hadn't assumed it since the sea voyage many months past and the human form was becoming stifling. He shook out his mane and cat-like stretched out his sinuous body as his pearl flared within him. He felt a roar rise up, but pushed it back down. He looked over to the other two.

Orin was examining him studiously. Merryweather had hopped up to higher branch but was regarding Qiang with wonderment.

"He really is a fancy-pants," he whispered. "I mean if he could wear pants that way." When Qiang did nothing more after his stretch Merryweather dropped down closer. He reached out his hand towards Qiang's head.

"May I pet?" he asked.

Qiang had never been asked that. He was momentarily surprised by the question, but then acquiesced. The small being stretched out his hand and could just touch the fur between Qiang's antlers. Qiang stretched his neck out so that his head was closer. The grig then jumped down from his perch to the top of Qiang's head laughing wildly as he ruffled the fur.

"What in Heaven's name are you doing?" he asked.

Merryweather sat upright between his antlers. "I want to go for a ride," he said, giddy.

"Well, you're not going for one on me."

Qiang heard the noise of disappointment Merryweather made. However, the grig did not leave his spot. Orin stepped closer. His was astonished, as was the grig, if more composed.

"I thought you might be of Heaven. Though Heaven's emissaries of the Middle Kingdom do take much different form from those of Ireland."

Qiang dipped his head, careful not to dislodge the grig as much as he may have wanted to.

"Are you here to look after all the workers?"

"I do what I can, though Owen is my primary charge."

"Hey, he's mine too," Merryweather piped up, annoyed.

Orin smiled slightly. "And Merryweather's charge, also."

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"OK, so fairies―I mean Sidhe-- are also emissaries of Heaven?" Sebastian asked.

Qiang nodded. "Some are, some aren't. More were at one time to my understanding, but things changed."

"What, Heaven?"

"Not...exactly. The arrangements changed."

"I thought Heaven would be eternal."

"Heaven is eternal as the moment," Qiang said.

Sebastian stared at Qiang. Then he swooped his claw over his head, signaling his lack of comprehension. From his position behind Sebastian, Chang cocked his head in confusion at the gesture.

"He's saying it went over his head, that he didn't understand what I was saying," Qiang explained.

"Ah, I see." Chang's tone was bemused. "How intriguing."

In the ensuing silence Sebastian dipped his head sheepishly while Dakota stifled a giggle. Chang and Qiang regarded each other, both waiting for the other to further explain. Chang spoke first.

"Please, continue. I found you phrasing quite elegant."

Qiang sighed and gathered his thoughts. "It's like your river. It always the same river but the water is always different. It's eternal but always changing with the new influx. You see what I'm saying?"

Sebastian nodded.

"Heaven is somewhat similar. Religion is the language humanity uses to converse with deity. As religions change, so does the language and the idioms used. There hadn't been much change in China, though certainly there were adjustments. Ireland, or Europe to be accurate, went through many changes in idiom. As man found new ways to express himself, old forms fell to the wayside in some places. But every idiom or form I refer to is a being, some of whom did not appreciate being pushed aside." Qiang paused, curling his head thoughtfully. "But much of this is a talk for another time. Chang can give you a much more thorough explanation when your learning comes to it. Don't feel bad, though. You weren't the only one not to understand the position of the Sidhe..."

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Before Qiang could further talk with the Sidhe he felt his elder's summons. Well, at least I'm summoned and not dragged there.

Qiang lowered his head to Orin. "I'm afraid I must go. Could you please remove Merryweather?"

Orin reached up and gathered the grig into his hands. "Are you returning to the workers?"

"Not yet, but I will be. I suspect we will be speaking again."

"I look forward to it," Orin responded with a smile.

Qiang answered Zongxian's call and the spirit world of the work camp vanished, replaced by his elder's mountain. The setting sun lit the world in splendid scarlet as the light sliced through the trees. Across from him was Zongxian, stiff legged and dour.

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"Um," Dakota interrupted.

"Yes?" Qiang asked.

"Not to be pedantic, but how can it be dusk in both the American Spirit world and China's?"

"Time is not always a fixed thing between them and can vary."

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With all the patience he could muster Qiang asked, "Yes?"

"I had thought we were of the same mind on how you are to present yourself?" Zongxian was clearly annoyed with his recalcitrant youngling.

"I was presenting myself to additional emissaries of Heaven," Qiang explained with a somewhat exaggerated toss of his head.

"What emissaries?"

"Of Ireland, I would think. At least he's guarding one of the Irish workers."

"And you needed to do this as a dragon? You can present yourself to any court here in human form and have it be accepted."

Qiang shrugged. "Apparently to the Irish it's considered rude to do so outside of the true form."

"Rude?" Zongxian asked, gobsmacked. "Now you're worried about manners. Not with the sea dragon."

"They hadn't killed anyone," Qiang explained, though he'd considered it self-evident.

"They?"

"Well, one is a small-kin, hardly the most impressive spirit I've ever seen. The other is in fact of Heaven and easily the equal of a dragon. Neither seem inclined to murder out of hand. The worst I might say is the small-kin probably left chocolate smudges in my mane."

"I wondered what that was. So what are they doing there?"

"It would seem the same as I am."

"Are they posing as workers?"

"No. I assume their elders are more reasonable."

"Qiang," Zongxian said slowly and carefully, "The ground is treacherous beneath your feet. You may want to be exceedingly careful how you tread it." The ground shook in emphasis of his point.

Qiang bowed his head. "Of course elder. I am sorry, I meant no offense."

"I sincerely doubt that."

Qiang remained with his head bowed until he received acknowledgment of the gesture. When nothing further was said he asked, "May I return?"

Zongxian snorted, but nodded his head in assent.

"You may. But remember you represent the Middle Kingdom to these others. You would be wise to ensure your representation is without cause for complaint."

Qiang stopped short as he took in Zongxian's words. He would be their first introduction to the ways of the Middle Kingdom. Qiang bowed his head in acknowledgment of this new responsibility.

"I shall do my best."

"See that you do."

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"So I found myself back in the camp. It appeared late evening, so I set out to find Fai to see if there was any unaccounted time I would need to explain."

"Unaccounted?" Sebastian asked. "How so?"

"As I said, time can be a tricky thing between the realms. The closer to the veil between the worlds you are the closer time flows. The deeper in you go, the more discrepancy there can be. Usually, more passes in the physical then the spiritual. The time with Orin and Merryweather was just on the other side of the barrier, so time would be normal. My time with Zongxian was deeper in, so there could be some difference."

From her position lying against Qiang, Mingzhu ran her hand along his back getting his attention. "You said there were two people you had antagonistic relationships with. Was Orin the other?"

"No. Though he and I didn't always see eye-to-eye on what our responsibilities were, I always accorded him the respect his position deserved."

"How did you not see eye-to-eye?" Chang asked.

"I always had the impression that he considered me very young and on a path that would have some very sharp learning curves. When we spoke, it had the overlay of a world-weary veteran and a overly-optimistic novice. I did find it frustrating, occasionally infuriating, but as I grew older I came to recognize that he had witnessed his people broken and scattered to the world. I believe something like one third of Ireland's population was lost due to the famine, either to direct death or to expatriation. He was painfully aware of the limitations of his position while I was still learning that very harsh lesson."

Chang's expression spoke of sympathy. "Those are very painful lessons to learn. Especially as closely as you were experiencing them."

Qiang nodded, his expression again distant. "Yes, they are. I will say Orin was a more patient teacher then Zongxian was, but I wasn't an eager pupil for either of them." He paused for a long moment, then continued. "So, no, Orin wasn't the other nor was Merryweather, though he sorely tried my patience. He was like a child. You corrected the behavior and nothing more. There was no malice in him, and certainly nothing to inspire a deep and abiding antagonism. Unlike Miles Chapman."

Qiang said the name with a growl and his entire body stiffened. The brazier flames flared up, and the floor faintly shook. Dakota jumped, startled, and Sebastian curled protectively around her while recoiling. Mingzhu, more accustomed to Qiang's temper, began to stroke his fur in an attempt to calm him. Chang also tensed, suddenly poised to move. He made a sound that was a cross between a growl and clearing his throat and watched Qiang expectantly.

Qiang's tensed coils immediately relaxed as the fires died back down. Qiang dipped his head. "I am sorry. Even with more then a century past the anger hasn't entirely left."

Chang settled back into a position of comfort. "If this is partially faded, I would truly fear to see what your full ire at this man was like. Shall I assume that he was as much a bane to you as you were to him?"

Sebastian relaxed slightly, shifting to a more comfortable position, but still kept his tail loosely coiled around Dakota. Mingzhu also settled against Qiang's side while continuing to run her hand through the fur on his back. He responded to her ministrations by lowering his head and nuzzled against her. Mingzhu caressed his jaw with her hand.

"Yes," Qiang said, raising his head. "You could safely say that. I was a bane to Owen Connolly because I was of Heaven and Heaven had failed his people. I could excuse that, perhaps even sympathize with the position. It was born out of frustration, pain, and loss. Miles Chapman, however, came from a line that appeared to be blessed by Heaven and it bore out in him an arrogance that was staggering, a callousness that was appalling, and a complete and total sense, in him, of his own God-awing magnificence..."

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