The sun was high in the sky when they rounded a horseshoe bend and came face-to-face with a spectacular cataract. It shot from the cliff above, plunging at least fifty feet before splashing into a sky blue pool, then cascading down the hillside in series of smaller waterfalls. Kyle caught his breath at the wild beauty of the place.

"This is called the Flying Water. The monastery is just above. They are often built on mountains and near water." Troth shaded her eyes as she peered upward. "If we continue to the top, there are said to be splendid views of the countryside. It's a long climb, though, and I'm not sure where the next village is."

"We'll manage," he said, not wanting to miss such an interesting prospect.

They climbed to the head of the waterfall and past the monastery. Kyle would have liked to go inside, but it was best to avoid people as much as possible.

Though the path to the summit was steep, the effort was worth it. The view was phenomenal, extending perhaps fifty miles in all directions. Canton was a distant blur, and streams and channels feeding into the Pearl River wound through the district in a shining lattice. Small villages were scattered everywhere in the fertile valleys and well up the craggy slopes. Faint curls of smoke from the foot of the mountain ahead of them indicated that there was a village there also.

Kyle could have studied the countryside for hours, but soon a party of monks appeared on the trail below them. Troth murmured, "The good monks might wonder why an aged blind man has climbed this far, so mount up, Grandfather."

He obeyed, and they started along the much smaller track that ran down the back of the mountain through a narrow gorge. Densely forested and with a stream in the middle, it would turn into a torrent after a heavy rain.

Here and there tea gardens clung to the side of the mountain, the plants intensely green with the first foliage of the year. "Tea plants like height and moisture," Troth said as a peasant working in one of the tea gardens called out to them.

Kyle asked, "What did he say?"

"I think he told us not to spend the night on the mountain. Ghosts, maybe."

She spoke so matter-of-factly that he blinked. "Ghosts. Of course."

She grinned. "They are everywhere, Grandfather. One must pay honor to them." As they moved down the track, she scanned the rugged landscape. "There are many caves in these hills. Perhaps we can explore one later, Kyle." She liked his personal name, which had the crisp simplicity of Chinese.

Seeing a promising shadow on the stone wall of the gorge, she gestured to Kyle to stay with the donkey while she explored. She'd traveled a hundred yards or so when the undergrowth trembled, and a sleek black-and-yellow shape oozed from the shadows half a dozen yards in front of her. Tiger.

She froze in her tracks. Then, heart hammering, she slowly began to retreat as the huge beast regarded her with assessing eyes.

The tiger moved toward her, one lazy step at a time. If it charged, no amount of wing chun skill could save her from having her throat ripped out.

Might she be able to climb a tree? No, none were close enough, and a tiger could outclimb a human anyhow.

She continued her withdrawal until her heel caught in a root and she fell down. Immediately the tiger broke into a lope. She cried out as it closed the distance between them in easy bounds, unable to control her terror as she looked up into the fanged, open mouth. She'd try to jab the eyes, and maybe she could kick it in the throat…

A fist-size stone whizzed past her and smashed into the tiger's nose. The beast stopped in its tracks, blinking with astonishment.

Another rock thumped into the broad, striped chest, swiftly followed by another that struck the powerfully muscled shoulder. The tiger swung its head to gaze beyond Troth and growl a warning.

There was absolute silence until another stone slammed into a dark, furry ear. The beast spat with irritation, then pivoted fluidly and bounded into the undergrowth. As the lashing tail vanished, Kyle hauled her to her feet. "Are you all right. Troth?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Then let's move. Luckily your feline friend wasn't hungry, but we need to be gone before he works up an appetite." He kept one arm around her waist as he hustled her back to where he'd tethered the nervous donkey.

It brayed when it saw them, tugging at the reins. As Kyle soothed the donkey, Troth asked, "What kind of fool throws stones at a tiger?"

"A fool who doesn't have a rifle." The donkey had settled down, so Kyle scooped her up and swung her into the saddle. "I've had some experience with tigers in India and was reasonably sure that stinging this one with stones would discourage him without triggering his temper. Unless they're man-eaters on a hunt, tigers usually won't go out of their way to attack humans, but when you fell, you started looking more edible."

"You're the one who's supposed to be riding," she protested as he started leading the donkey down the rough track.

"Later, when you aren't shaking like a dish of jellied eels." He gave her a quick smile, which contrasted oddly with the bandages that concealed most of his face.

He was right; her whole body trembled. She was grateful to let her companion take charge. A pity she'd been too distracted to enjoy having his strong arms lift her onto the donkey.

She must be recovering if she was beginning to think lustful thoughts again. "You throw well."

"I was reckoned to be quite a good cricket bowler at Eton." He chuckled. "It didn't occur to me at the time that the skill would prove handy with tigers. The advantages of a good education."

She smiled, her tension easing. Insouciance in the face of near disaster was one of the qualities she most liked about the British. Her father had had it in full measure. He and Kyle would have liked each other.

Half a mile down the track she slid from the saddle and took over the donkey's leading rein. Kyle fell back a step and placed his hand on the saddle in his usual position. Troth noted that except for his rescue of her, he maintained the posture and mannerisms of an old man even when there appeared to be no one around. In China, there could always be hidden eyes watching.

"It's almost sunset and I don't think we're going to reach that village by nightfall," he remarked.

She shivered involuntarily. "I'm afraid not."

"We can't spend the night in the open, since tigers do most of their hunting then. We could climb a tree, but our braying friend would be in the same position as a goat staked out as bait." Unobtrusively he pulled the strip of gauze over his eyes down so he could see more clearly. "That might be a cave over there. Shall we take a closer look?"

She nodded, hoping he was right. She wanted solid walls around her tonight.

They scrambled up the incline and around rocks, the donkey protesting until Kyle said sternly, "Stop complaining. We're doing this to save you from being eaten."

"Perhaps he complains since he needs a name."

"We can call him Stubborn Ass," Kyle suggested.

She laughed. "He's a Chinese donkey and should have a Chinese name. How about Sheng, which means victory? "

"Let's hope he lives up to that. Come along, Sheng." Kyle hauled at the animal's bridle to urge him up the rugged slope.

As they neared the cave, Troth said uneasily, "Have you noticed how well-worn this track is? I hope it wasn't made by hungry creatures who live in the cave."

"Anything short of a tiger we can handle."

Troth blinked when a pistol materialized in Kyle's hand. Where had he been hiding that? What a useful man he was in wild country.

She waited as Kyle stepped warily into the narrow entrance. His voice echoing oddly, he said, "There's a sizable space. It rather smells of sandalwood, of all things. It's obviously used regularly by travelers, but it's empty now. Come on in."

Tugging at Sheng's bridle with all her strength, Troth pulled the donkey into the cave with a clatter of hooves. The area was irregularly shaped but spacious, and dimly lit from a crevice in the hill above. To the left was a fire pit with ashes, and beyond that water flowed down the stone into a convenient little pool.

There was also a small pile of prepared torches. Kyle lit one and began to explore. From the shadowy rear of the cave, he called, "There's a passageway back here. I'm going to check to make sure nothing dangerous is hiding."

"I'm coming, too." Curious, Troth tethered Sheng to a knob of rock and followed Kyle as the passage climbed upward into the hill. She guessed it was a natural tunnel that had been enlarged and smoothed for easy walking.

She found out why when Kyle halted ahead of her and gave a soft whistle. "Good God. It's a temple."

Chapter 19

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Stunned, Kyle studied the carved female image in front of him. Twice the height of a man and illuminated by shafts of light falling from holes in the ceiling high above, it seemed to have been carved from the living stone of the mountain. He wouldn't even try to guess how long ago. A thousand years? Two thousand?

Troth stepped to his side and said softly, "Not 'Good God,' but 'Good Goddess.' " She pressed her hands together in front of her chest and bowed. "This is Kuan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of mercy and protector of children." In the soft cathedral light, Kuan Yin radiated grace and serenity.

Kyle glanced at the drift of dried flowers at the statue's feet. "The local people must come here regularly. Will it be an offense to the goddess and the worshipers if a foreign devil spends the night in the cave below?"