The elephant snorted and lion looked amused, her amber eyes gleaming.
“Something like that,” the lion allowed. After a moment, she continued, “What do you know of how you came here?”
Jing-Wei blushed. “I am told that my father and mother wanted a child and they did—” She found she couldn’t continue, she was so embarrassed.
“Not that!” the elephant rumbled loudly. “She’s asking how humans came to this planet. Do you know that, child?”
“Lau De said that long ago the emperor flew in a sky chariot across the night sky and brought our forefathers here,” Jing-Wei said, glad to be on less worldly matters. “But the chariot was assaulted by the lesser demons and the demon Murphy—”
“Murphy!” the elephant bugled. “Poor lad never gets a break!”
“Go on,” the lion urged Jing-Wei.
“—and crashed in the mountains,” Jing-Wei said, pointing to the distance and then frowning as she realized that they were now in those mountains.
“Here, in fact,” the lion agreed.
“The emperor and all the lesser gods were grievously injured, beset by the greater demons, but they managed to fight them off and plant man on the planet, blessed be their memories,” Jing-Wei finished.
“We would have left if we could have,” the lion added in a sad voice. “We didn’t want to fight with another intelligent species.”
“It was their planet. If they had just let us leave, we could have found another,” the elephant agreed.
“We made a peace—”
“Hmph!”
“—and we honored it,” the lion said.
“But the people forgot and expanded wherever they could,” the elephant said. “And so broke the treaty.”
“Both sides broke the treaty, there is blame on both sides,” the lion said.
“Are you saying that my ancestors were wrong?” Jing-Wei asked, trying to hide her horror at the thought. “That they stole our valley from others?”
“That’s what we’ll find out,” the lion said.
“And we’ll punish their children and their children’s children for their deeds?” the elephant asked, shaking his head. “Is that the right way?”
“Should we continue to break the treaty instead?” the lion asked. “And if we do, how will we survive?”
“You’re a demon, aren’t you?” Jing-Wei asked. “How can you die?”
“We can be killed, just as easily as a human,” the elephant said sadly. “There used to be hundreds of us. Most of us died protecting the treaty or defending humans.”
“And now?” Jing-Wei asked. “How many are there now?”
“A few,” the lion said in a whisper.
Jing-Wei’s eyes grew wide. “Just you two?”
The elephant shook his head.
“Look up,” the lion said. Jing-Wei did just as a giant shadow crashed toward her. With a shriek, she flung herself into a small ball on the elephant’s back.
“Shahbaz!” the lion cried. “You didn’t have to scare her so!”
“But it’s fun,” a voice replied.
“You can look up, child,” the lion said. “It’s just Shahbaz.”
“The bird?” Jing-Wei said, daring to open her eyes. A giant bird was perched on the back of the lion. Who was sitting on top of the elephant. Beside Jing-Wei.
“An eagle,” Shahbaz corrected, grooming his feathers with his beak.
“And you’re a demon, too?”
“I’m no demon, child,” the eagle scolded. “I’m just as human as the other two.”
“So, you’re a demon,” Jing-Wei concluded.
“Words, just words,” Shahbaz grumbled.
“But if you are all demons, then what is in the cave of miracles?” Jing-Wei asked in a small voice.
“Memories,” the lion said. “Just memories.”
“And power,” the elephant added. “Lots of power.”
“At least until the captain returns,” the eagle said.
“If he returns!” the elephant rumbled.
“PO! You shouldn’t say such things!” the lion chided.
“With all respect, ma’am, it’s been what—nearly a thousand years?” the elephant said. “They could have gone to Earth and back five times or more!”
“The ship was damaged,” the eagle said judiciously.
“And the demons attacked when it took off,” the lion said. “It could have slowed them down. They could have stopped for repairs.”
“Or they could have been lost and will never return,” the elephant said.
“We agreed on all that already, I don’t see why we’re rehashing it,” the lion said.
“Because it’s one thing waiting for help and another taking care of our descendants,” the elephant said. A moment later, he added, “Ma’am.”
“What else can we do?” the lion said miserably.
“We lost Sens fifty years ago,” the elephant said. “By the law of averages, we won’t last another two hundred years. And what then?”
“This is a conversation that should not involve a child’s ears,” the eagle said to the others.
“My ears are just as good as yours!” Jing-Wei protested to the eagle. She peered closely at the bird. “Where are your ears?”
“He doesn’t have any,” the elephant rumbled. “Which means that your ears are better than his.”
“And your ears are the best,” the lion said testily. “But the point remains.”
“How many people have come to the cave of miracles?” the eagle asked. “How many since Sens?”
“In my village, the cave of miracles is a myth,” Jing-Wei said. “I only know about it because Lau De told me.”
“Who is Lau De?”
“She is the witch who took me in when my parents died,” Jing-Wei said, trying her best to sound matter-of-fact. “She was the last witch of our village.”
“I told you that witch idea wasn’t going to work!” the elephant rumbled.
“And what would you say?” the lion asked. “That we’re the avatars of lost astronauts?”
“First you’d have to explain avatars, then astronauts, and by the time you’re done, they’ve either died of old age or fled in fright,” the eagle said.
“You talk a lot,” Jing-Wei said. Silence fell and she bowed her head. “I mean, it seems so to me.”
“Out of the mouths of babes!” the eagle cackled.
“I am not a babe!” Jing-Wei protested. “I am small for my size.”
“And how old are you, little one?” the lion asked.
“I’ll soon have seen the five seasons six times,” Jing-Wei said.
“That’d make her coming up on seven,” the eagle said after a moment. “And she walked all the way here on her own.”
The three demons were quiet for a long while. Finally, the lion said, “You should rest now, child. We’ll wake you when it’s time to eat again.”