Archer's Quest Read online

  Archie seemed very interested in his new surroundings. He kept looking around at the things on the walls, the scrolls, paintings, and carvings of old China. Since the last time Kevin had been there—on his birthday—new decorations had been added for the Chinese New Year. Colorful streamers and lanterns and lots of rabbits everywhere, on pictures and banners and even a toy stuffed rabbit on the counter. On the wall, a poster:

  1

  days left until the Year of the Rabbit!

  The number "1" was on one of those tear-off pads. Kevin wondered idly if there was a zero underneath.

  The hostess came out. She spoke in Chinese, addressing Archie, but he bowed and said nothing. She looked a little perplexed, and Kevin said hastily, "Table for two, please."

  She led them to a table with four places. Kevin walked around to take the chair against the wall, but a glare from Archie stopped him. Clearly, that was to be his seat.

  Kevin sat down across from him and watched nervously as Archie put his bow and quiver on one of the empty chairs. The hostess did a double take but said only, "Your waitress will be right with you," as she left them.

  Archie leaned over and whispered, "Clearly, she is from China, but not any of the regions with which I am familiar. When she spoke to me before, her words sounded Chinese, and yet I could not understand them."

  Kevin thought that the Chinese language had probably changed a lot since Archie's time, the same way that English from, like, Shakespeare's time was really different. "It's okay, Archer. They speak my language here, too."

  "And do they intend for us to eat in this manner? We should be properly seated on the floor."

  As if Archie's outfit wasn't bizarre enough, the two of them sitting on the floor in the middle of the restaurant ... Kevin almost had to smile at the thought.

  "Archer, I know it seems strange to you, but in this world it's considered polite to sit on chairs and eat at a table."

  Archie cocked one eyebrow. "Hmm. Strange, indeed. But at least I am able to sit with my back to the wall."

  His back to the wall ... so he doesn't have to worry about what's behind him.

  Kevin was proud of himself for figuring that one out. At the same time, he felt a shiver of sympathy for Archie. I guess if you're a king in his time, you have to worry about stuff like someone trying to stab you in the back....

  Kevin scanned the big menu. Five bucks wouldn't buy them very much. He hoped Archie wouldn't want to order something really expensive.

  "Soup and rice," Archie declared. "Light but nourishing—that is what I need."

  Egg-drop soup, $1.00. Steamed rice, $1.50. Perfect. He ordered those for Archie, and an egg roll for himself—$1.50—and he'd even be able to leave a tip.

  The waitress was the same woman who had given him the ice cream on his birthday. She recognized him and gave him a smiling nod. Then she glanced at Archie and smiled again but didn't say anything.

  Maybe she thinks he's an actor in a play, or something like that. Kevin finally felt he could relax about it. It's weird how people mostly just mind their own business. All this time, I haven't had to explain Archie to anyone—good thing, too, because what would I say?

  That reminded Kevin that he'd have to think up some kind of explanation for the broken window. And for his black eye. He sighed inwardly. He often sort of stretched the truth a little—like saying it would only take him "a few minutes" to finish a video game—but he hardly ever lied outright to his parents. How could he possibly tell them the truth this time? He wondered if...

  "Archer, did you ever have to lie to someone—about something important?"

  Kevin was surprised to hear his own voice; he hadn't meant to say anything out loud. Uh-oh, that was a question.

  Archie had been examining his glass of water. He seemed especially interested in the ice cubes, even fishing one out to inspect it more closely. "Ice," he mumbled, "in small, uniform shapes. But why would one want one's water so cold when the weather outdoors is chill?"

  Kevin had to smile. His mom didn't like ice in her water, either; she always said it made her fillings hurt.

  Archie put the ice cube back in the glass and then looked at Kevin. "Yes," he said. "It was not something I relished doing, but I deemed it an absolute necessity at the time. And the very fact that you voice such a thought means that your soul is, in general, an honorable one."

  Honorable? Seems like such an—an old-fashioned word. But it's kinda cool to think I might be an honorable guy.

  "You see," Archie said as he gazed at some point beyond Kevin's head, "Chu-mong believed that his situation warranted the untruth."

  Kevin leaned forward a little. The third-person thing, like before. Good, that means another story.

  "When Chu-mong evinced his uncanny ability to relate to animals, the king realized that this might one day be useful. At about your age"—Archie lifted his chin toward Kevin—"or perhaps a little older, Chu-mong was ordered by the king to oversee the palace stables. His royal father instructed him to undertake the training of five colts, one each for the four older brothers and one for the king himself. The horses were to be ready in time for a certain ceremony when the king would ride out to the countryside with his eldest son, attended by the other brothers—all except Chu-mong, of course.

  "By this time Chu-mong was well aware that his position at court was a precarious one, and he decided to make preparations in the event that he should need a sudden escape. He considered long and hard before finally coming up with a plan.

  "There were several colts in the stable that might one day serve as noble mounts. Chu-mong looked them over carefully and chose not five but six of them. He broke them to the saddle and trained them all well.

  "In the moon before the date of the ceremony, Chu-mong chose the finest of the six horses, a handsome, spirited stallion. He asked the horse's forgiveness and cooperation, and the ancestors' blessings and understanding, for what he was about to do. Then he placed in the stallion's mouth a device he had constructed himself: a wooden splint that would impair the horse's ability to eat but that could not be easily seen without close examination."

  "Ouch," Kevin said, thinking, Poor horse.

  Archie ignored the interruption. "Naturally, the stallion grew thin and weak and could not run. When the king visited the stables to inspect the horses, he saw the other five fine mounts and was well pleased.

  "You may also have a horse for yourself," he said to Chu-mong. "That one." And, as Chu-mong had hoped, the king pointed to the skinny, pathetic-looking beast hanging its head in its stall. Chu-mong saw the brothers nudge one another, smirking over the king's 'gift' to his youngest son.

  "Chu-mong bowed his thanks and watched as his brothers and father rode off. Then he took the splint from the stallion's mouth and at once began the careful chore of bringing it back to full health. Soon the horse was once again the finest mount in the stable.

  "And a few years later, Chu-mong was to ride this very horse, now his loyal friend, when he made his fateful escape from the palace."

  Archie blinked as he came out of "storytelling mode."

  "But, Archer, you didn't really lie about the horse," Kevin said. "You just—well, you kept a secret. That's not the same as lying."

  Archie held up a warning finger. "Deceit may come in many forms, Young Friend, but it is still deceit."

  Kevin tugged on the bill of his cap. He'd have to think about that some more.

  "I chose a path of deceit deliberately, and it caused me great unrest," Archie said. "Even though I deemed the deceit necessary for a greater good, I will not easily forget the stain of it. My hope is that the memory will serve to remind me how the path of truth is the only one of genuine honor, and that detours from it are always taken at some cost."

  Then Archie laced his fingers together and stretched his arms out in front of him. 'And now, Young Friend," he said, "I will take a few moments to gather my strength in silence. I would, of course, prefer to do so alone and in harmony with
nature, but the ideal is seldom available. I must take the opportunity as it presents itself, and seek whatever good is there."

  With that, Archie put his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and became still as a statue.

  Kevin immediately felt weird, as if he were watching someone sleep. Except that Archie wasn't snoring, and his mouth wasn't sagging open.

  Looking at Archie felt like invading his privacy, so Kevin glanced down at his placemat instead. There they were, the twelve animals of the Chinese zodiac printed in red around the edge, with descriptions of their characteristics in tiny lettering.

  Kevin looked at the Tiger, his sign. He skimmed the description, having read it a hundred times before. "Courageous ... adventurous ... magnetic ... but also nervous ... sometimes lacks discipline..." He rolled his eyes. I guess they got that right, he thought.

  The corresponding birth years for each sign were also printed on the menu, going back as far as 1900. Kevin searched for his birth year.

  ...1950—1962—1974—1986—

  Kevin knew he was a Tiger even though he'd been born in 1987. The 1986 Tiger year went into 1987. Kevin's birthday was at the end of a Tiger year; he could recall his dad explaining this to him ages ago, when he was little.

  He caught his breath. Wait. That means my calculations were off. What was it again? 2,042 years total? That's wrong. If it's 1986 instead of 1987, that makes 2,041 years.

  I think.

  Kevin sighed. I should start over. Start from the beginning, do each step again.

  55 B.C. The year Archie was born.

  55 years.

  Then A.D.

  1,986 years.

  He gasped. That was wrong, too!

  There was no such thing as 0 A.D.! A.D. started with the year 1! That made it 1,985 years, which meant the total was ... 2,040!

  Kevin had that combined feeling of satisfaction and disgust that always happened when he figured out what he'd done wrong on a math problem. Satisfaction that he'd figured it out at last, disgust that he'd gotten it wrong in the first place. He had the right total now; he just knew it.

  2,040 total years. Okay, so if he divided by 12, he'd get the number of cycles. Kevin "wrote" on his hand again.

  2,040 divided by 12 equals ... 170. No one-sixth left over—it comes out even now.

  He nodded. It was so much easier when things came out even, when there weren't fractions or decimals or remainders to deal with. Those always seemed like shoelaces that were way too long, that you had to loop up and tie in some complicated way so you wouldn't trip on them.

  170 cycles altogether....Now what?

  Well, Archie said there are five different kinds of cycles. If! want to figure out which cycle I was born in, I'd need to know how many of one kind of cycle since Archie was born.... I know he was born in a Fire cycle. That means divide, like before.

  170 ÷ 5 = 34.

  It came out even again.

  Kevin frowned. He was concentrating so hard he was almost cross-eyed, staring at the invisible 34 on the palm of his hand.

  Exactly 34 times each element has cycled around. Exactly. Which means ... which means ... Wow. Another coincidence.

  He held up his hand as if the answer was written there. "Archer, I got it! I'm a Fire-tiger, too!"

  10. In the Outhouse

  Archie did not open his eyes. "I suspected as much," he said.

  That was all. Kevin sat there with his hand up and his mouth open for a moment. Then he closed his mouth and lowered his hand. After all the math he'd done, Archie should definitely have been more impressed.

  Their waitress approached the table carrying a tray. She put the rice and soup down in front of Archie and gave Kevin the egg roll.

  Archie opened his eyes and sat up straighten He rolled his shoulders and blinked a few times, then nodded at Kevin as if they were renewing their acquaintance.

  Archie picked up the bowl of soup in both hands and sipped at it. "Delicious," he murmured. Then he put the bowl down and reached for the rice. With the fingers of one hand, he rolled some rice into a little ball and popped it into his mouth.

  Kevin watched him for a moment, disappointed that Archie didn't seem terribly interested that they were both Fire-tigers. But the smell of the freshly fried egg roll distracted him, and he realized he was starving.

  "Archer, there are chopsticks if you want them," Kevin said. He tore the paper wrapper off his pair and snapped them apart.

  Archie watched, then picked up his own pair. He looked at them admiringly. "What fine work," he said. "It must have taken many hours for a craftsman to make them so smooth and even."

  "What, these cheapo things?" Kevin said. "No, they're mass-produced—you know, in a factory." He saw the blank look on Archie's face. "Oh, never mind, it's not important."

  "I am teaching my people to use them," Archie said. "Many still eat with their hands, which can be efficient but is often untidy and renders one's hands unfit for the bow."

  Wow. It's true, then, what Professor Lee told me.

  Kevin finished eating before Archie did. He wondered what they would do after they left the restaurant. He was out of ideas, logical or not—he was 99.9 percent sure there wasn't another tiger anywhere in Dorchester.

  Archie slurped up the last of his soup. He pushed his chair back a little and stretched out his legs under the table.

  The waitress brought a little tray with the bill and two fortune cookies in cellophane wrappers. Kevin reached for one. "Dessert," he said. On seeing another blank look on Archie's face, he added, "A cookie."

  More blankness.

  "Um—like a little cake. A sweet."

  "Ah." Archie's face cleared.

  Kevin opened the wrapper, broke the cookie in half, and pulled out the little strip of paper inside.

  "Wah," Archie gasped. "A message inside your sweet! Is this some kind of magic?"

  Kevin grinned. "No, they make them like this. Do you want to play a game?"

  "What sort of game?"

  "You read your fortune out loud, but at the end you add the words 'on the toilet.'" Kevin had just learned this game; Jason had done it at the birthday dinner.

  "The toilet?"

  "Er—the latrine," Kevin said. "Maybe you call it the outhouse."

  "Ah, the outhouse, yes. And why do you play this game?"

  "Because it's funny."

  "But a fortune that comes from the spirits of the ancestors should not be trifled with," Archie said with a frown.

  "These fortunes don't come from the spirits," Kevin said patiently. "People write them for fun, and this game makes it even more fun." He unfolded the little paper. "Okay, I'm going to read what it says now, but I'm going to add 'in the outhouse' at the end. Ready? 'Your efforts will have the desired results'"—pause—"in the outhouse.'"

  Archie's face was expressionless.

  Uh-oh. Maybe this was a mistake—maybe he thinks it's some kind of insult.

  Then, "PAH!" Archie barked out a laugh that made Kevin jump. "That is very humorous!"

  Kevin was delighted that Archie got the joke. "Open yours, and I'll read it for you," he said. Archie fumbled with his cookie and finally extracted his fortune. He looked at it carefully, then handed it to Kevin.

  '"Patience and precision are virtues you should cultivate ... in the outhouse.'"

  "HA!" Archie laughed again. "Patience and precision in the outhouse—HA!"

  It was good to see Archie laugh; Kevin had begun to wonder if he knew how.

  Just then a waiter and two waitresses clattered out of the kitchen and surrounded the only other occupied table—the one where the two women were eating. It was the birthday routine again. The woman facing Kevin looked startled for a moment, then grinned and blushed and gave her companion a playful slap on the arm. "Oh, you," she said.

  The waiter hit the gong and the waitresses started to sing.

  Kevin could almost feel his body vibrating from the gong's sound waves. A thought seemed to flicker in his brain,
like something he was seeing out of the corner of his eye but couldn't get a clear glimpse of.... Something about the gong...

  He frowned and craned his neck, trying to get a better look at it. It looked the way a gong ought to look—a round disk of dark metal, slightly curved, carved with Chinese characters. It was about the size of a car tire, and it hung from a wooden frame. I wonder what kind of metal it is. Brass? No, brass is sort of a goldy color, isn't it? Bronze, maybe. Yeah, bronze is dark like that. He'd seen statues made of bronze—

  The thought broke through.

  "Archer! I know where there's another tiger!"

  11. The Realm of Mystery

  Once again, Archie did not look nearly as excited as Kevin thought he should. He merely nodded. "Well and good. Where is this tiger?"

  "It's at the university, where my parents work. I don't know why I didn't think of it before—"

  Kevin stopped. The wave of excitement had passed and now a bigger wave of doubt took its place. Of course he hadn't thought of it before. It was ridiculous enough to think that a real tiger might get Archie back to Korea—but a fake one?

  "It's not a real tiger," Kevin said, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment. "It's only a statue."

  The statue of Dorchester State's mascot, which stood near the college's main gate.

  But Archie looked interested. More than interested—he was smiling. "A statue. It is good to know that you live in a world with such reverence for tigers. Is it made of stone?"

  "No, not stone. It's metal, I think it might be bronze. I don't know, it's probably a dumb idea...."

  Archie looked startled. Then he leaned forward, bowing with the upper part of his body. When he straightened up again and spoke, his voice was quiet, but it was filled with both awe and delight. "I am honored to have a companion whose thoughts are so profound!"