“My love, I think you and she love all living things.”
Xulai stayed in the shrine with Lok-i-xan. Precious Wind, Justinian, and Abasio went outside with the other Tingawans who introduced themselves as people who had known the princess when she was young. They had come to witness. “Whenever a Xakixa comes, some of us are here to witness,” they said. “So we can be sure the soul has returned.”
“Tell me about the shrine,” Abasio begged. “That cavern is ancient.”
An old woman answered. “Oh, yes. It was the first burial place of Clan Do-Lok. Our dead were burned on pyres nearby, and the ashes were put in the cavern along with the name stones. The little lanterns were traditional, only symbolic. Then, long, long ago, the lights began to come. At first, just a few. Then, more and more, some of them very old, back as far as there were name stones. Once we had seen the lights, we realized what was happening here. It has always happened, probably; wherever people have had their own land, their own surroundings for hundreds of years, the souls have remained there, so once we knew, beginning then, as soon as a baby was named, the family made the stone and brought it here. It continues today. If the person dies here, the light comes. If someone dies afar, the Xakixa brings them home. Not the body, that doesn’t matter.”
“For everyone?”
A very old man shook his head sadly. “No. Sometimes, young people, you know, they think if something is old, it’s worthless. They don’t love their land or care for it. They go away not only in body, but in spirit, and those who go away like that, they hardly ever come back.” He sighed. “But, at the same time, we know they never were one of us in spirit, so we have lost nothing but the love and care we gave them, and that was their due, stay or not. Some believe their spirits go somewhere else, some other world, but that’s silly. A soul stays where it is at home. If it has no home, it just goes out, like a candle flame. That’s why we must save our world, so the souls of all the people who love the world will have a place to be.”
Without meaning to say it, Abasio blurted, “And what will you do with the waters rising?”
The old woman smiled. “This was a mountain with a cave in it; now it is a waterproof building the size of a mountain. Do-Lok will build a tower on top, as high as is needed, if one is needed. The cavern will remain. I have heard talk of building a boat that goes underwater to get to it . . .” She sighed, half smiled. “We’ll think of something.”
“And the other clans?”
“Each clan has done this in their own way. On some islands, their shrines drowned, but when divers looked inside, the lights were still there. They’re not fire, you know. They’re the kind of light one sees in the ocean. Now they have divers who carry down the stones of the newborn. Later, if there is a Xakixa, the diver brings up the stone, the Xakixa lays hands upon it, and then the diver takes it down again and there is light in those caverns, under the sea.”
The other witnesses were smiling, nodding, yes, that was the way of it. Light in the caverns, under the sea. Only a few clans had people who could actually consult with their ancestral spirits, they said, so caverns under the sea were all right for most of them.
In the shrine, Xulai and Lok-i-xan sat together on a stone bench, hand in hand.
“Grandfather,” said Xulai, “will you tell me about elegance? You said Tingawans like elegance, even in simple things.”
“Ah,” he said. “Didn’t Precious Wind ever tell you the story of the emperor’s garden?”
She shook her head.
“Long ago there was an emperor. We call him E’loms Los Velipe Umvok, or Elvuk for short. Emperor Elvuk loved gardens. Before he became emperor, he traveled widely, looking at gardens. He collected books about gardens. He collected plants and trees, and when he became emperor, he decided to create the most beautiful gardens in the world. He hired gardeners. Of course, gardeners have their own ideas about things, and this one and that one offered opinions. Elvuk did not want their opinions, so he made them wear blinders and told them they had only to dig where he said to, plant where he said to, fertilize as he said to. People came to look at the gardens, and Elvuk found nutshells and candy wrappers, and so he planted a hedge that grew thirty feet high and where there wasn’t a hedge, he had builders build a wall.
“His garden grew; it matured; it was beautiful beyond all his dreams. He kept it carefully locked so no one could pick a flower or throw litter. The gardeners weeded in blinders, so they couldn’t see anywhere except where they were weeding. Whenever they trimmed anything, the emperor told them where to cut. The emperor knew it was the most beautiful garden in the world, and the emperor loved it.
“Came time, as it always does, and the emperor died. Death came for him, and death said, “Tell me what you have accomplished so I can assign you the proper job in the next world.” And the emperor said, “I created the most beautiful garden the world has ever seen.”
And Death went away to look at his records. And he returned, saying, “I’m sorry, but I find no record of your garden anywhere. No one has seen it. No one has enjoyed it. No one has been benefited by it. If it really existed, you didn’t even leave it behind. If it was behind that tall hedge and wall, there’s only a weed patch there now.”
The
