The lion moved to one side, and the elephant stepped forward. Jing-Wei’s eyes widened in growing horror as the elephant grew larger and larger as it came up to her. She closed her eyes in fright.
“Please! I have to help my village!” she mumbled in terror. The lion roared, and Jing-Wei trembled. She heard the soft thuds of the lion stalking toward her.
And something inside her snapped. She opened her eyes, crouched down, brought her hands in front of her, ready to fight. “If you eat me, I will claw you from the inside!” she roared. “I will fight my way out of your belly, rip you asunder, and then I will find the cave of miracles and save my village!”
“Or you could just climb on my shoulders so that I can lift you up onto the back of my friend,” the lion said.
Eyes wide with wonder, Jing-Wei did as the lion said. She found herself comfortably perched between the wide shoulders of the huge beast, which turned and began lumbering down into the valley below them. The lion, with a growl that might have been a chuckle, loped off to disappear into the forest.
“The lion talked,” Jing-Wei said to herself in surprise. “I didn’t know lions can talk.”
“They can’t,” the elephant replied. “Only demons can talk.”
Demons? Jing-Wei’s mind trembled at the notion. “Where did she go?” Jing-Wei said.
“She went to get you some food,” the elephant replied.
“If only demons can talk . . ?”
“Yes,” the elephant replied, “I’m a demon.”
I’m riding a demon! Jing-Wei wailed in her mind. She made herself as small as possible on top of the elephant’s huge back, waiting for whatever end would come. Tears streaked her face, but she did not cry out loud for she would not give the demons the pleasure of knowing they had destroyed her.
A soft sound caused her to open her eyes, and she looked around to see the lion with a wicker basket in its mouth standing behind her on the elephant’s back.
“You must eat,” the lion said after she lowered the basket onto the elephant’s back near Jing-Wei.
“So you can eat me?” Jing-Wei asked in a small voice, all she could muster in her despair.
“Well, certainly, if you do not succeed in your quest,” the lion allowed. “But you’ll need food for strength. Your journey was long, and the longest part is in front of you.”
“In front of me?”
“In the cave of miracles,” the lion said. “You are here to plead for your village, are you not?”
“Yes,” Jing-Wei admitted. Suddenly beyond all caution, she added, “But you’re a demon—why should you care?”
“Not all demons are the same,” the lion told her. “Isn’t that true with people?”
“Yes,” Jing-Wei agreed slowly. Her stomach rumbled loudly, and the lion chuckled.
“Eat, little bird!” she said, nudging to the basket toward her. “You’re no good to either of us starving.”
“Small bird,” Jing-Wei corrected absently, looking at the basket and eyeing the contents warily. “Is the food poisoned?” The lion shook her head. “Or enspelled?”
“It is safe and good for humans to eat,” the lion told her. “Chicken and ginger over rice.”
“Any garlic?” Jing-Wei asked, moving carefully to grab the handle of the basket and creep it toward her.
“Of course,” the lion agreed. “And vegetables. Fresh.” The lion nudged the basket closer to the child. “There’s warm tea, too.”
Jing-Wei opened the cloth that wrapped the insides of the basket and discovered that the contents were exactly what the lion had said.
“Lion, what should I call you?” Jing-Wei asked in a small voice.
“I am a lion. Why do you ask?”
“Demons have names and I have manners,” Jing-Wei told her primly.
“Well, then, well-mannered child, you may call me ATO Nightingale,” the lion replied.
“ATO? Is that Japanese?”
“It’s an old, old word that has no meaning anymore,” the lion replied, mouth wide, displaying many bright white teeth. “It means Assistant Tactical Officer.”
“It is important?” Jing-Wei asked. When the lion shook her head, Jing-Wei persisted, “To you, at least?”
“Very much so,” the bass voice of the elephant snorted. “She’ll never let me forget it, not even after a thousand years!”
“And you, kind elephant, what should I call you?”
“I am PO Knightsbridge, little one,” the bass voice replied. “PO means Petty Officer, which means the ATO—who holds the rank of lieutenant—outranks me.”
“She tells you what to do?” Jing-Wei said. The elephant bobbed his head up and down.
“Well,” the lion—ATO Nightingale—mumbled, “I do ask for your opinion, Brandon.”
“Oh, we’re on a first-name basis again, are we, Paula?” the elephant said.
The lion said nothing, looking meaningfully at Jing-Wei. “Eat, child. We’ll be there soon enough.”
“I asked your names that I might thank you for showing such kindness to one so lowly as my poor self,” Jing-Wei said, bowing her head to touch the rough skin of the elephant’s back. “I, Li Jing-Wei, do give you thanks for this fine meal.”
“Taste it first, before you say that,” the elephant said with a deep rumble.
“You are welcome, little one,” said the lion. “Eat up, life’s always best on a full stomach.”
Jing-Wei bowed once more and sat, cross-legged, on the elephant’s back, untying the bundled cloth and laying the meal out in front of her. The rice was in a separate bowl. There was a strange container that held the hot tea and had a cup on top. The hot chicken, ginger, garlic, and vegetables were in another container. She found some odd metal things, but fortunately had no trouble identifying some very nicely fashioned chopsticks.
She drank a sip of tea—it was heaven! And then she could hardly contain herself as she transferred warm ginger chicken to the rice and gobbled it down.
She burped—and blushed—not certain if she was being rude to her animal hosts or expressing the highest of praise. She raised the last of her tea in the cup in a salute to the lion and drained it gratefully.
“I’m ready to die now,” she said quietly. “My stomach thanks you for this last meal.”
“Don’t be so quick to plan your funeral,” the lion told her. “The valley is wide and we’ve got hours yet before you get to the cave of miracles.”
“Have you been there?” Jing-Wei asked in amazement. “Do they let animals inside?”
“It’d be hard to stop us,” the elephant said with another bass chuckle. “And humans are animals, too.”
“Really?” Jing-Wei asked. “Are we just like chickens and pigs?”
“No more than an old man is just like a baby,” the lion chided her.
“Are demons human, too?”
“That depends on the demon,” the elephant rumbled.
“Most aren’t,” the lion said. “They’re native to Jade.”
“Our planet under the Jade Emperor?” Jing-Wei said.