Chapter 17: Zau consults an astrologer
Zau’s next move required careful planning. It must be at an auspicious time, a place with perfect fēng shuǐ, a setting that would lead to a harmonious outcome and amenities that reduced any friction.
He had a set of places where negotiations between deities had occurred successfully in the past, but now must consult a master in zi wei dou shu, Purple Star Astrology, to determine the timing.
The master manifested as three maidens with odd fish tattoos upon their exposed wrists, a sign of their respect and fear of the titanic predator of the deep consulting them, his vast appetites, his venerable age. Charts and scrolls were consulted, the maidens moving in a beautiful and syncopated rhythm with one another. Zau sipped tea as he waited patiently.
He remembered Tahiti, a place he’d visited after the Polynesians had arrived but before the Europeans. The warm waters, the springs, the sun, the palms, the welcoming islanders. He realized that the odd fish was one he’d seen in the deeps there, wondered if it were a coincidence, then dismissed the thought. The master was playing a subtle game of simultaneously displayed respect and expertise. And then he wondered if Tahiti would be spared the rising sea, if the fish was already endangered by the changes. His resolve rose within him again.
The master caught his attention, performed a unified kau tau, then explained the process, the implications and finally the results. Zau nodded. There was time, and it was within the season of cherry blossoms. This would suffice, so he would not need to consult another astrologer who would give him an answer he would accept.
Next he visited a kau cim master. After elaborate preparations and ceremonies, the master, simply presenting as a venerable human of Han descent, squatting beside a spring, shook the bamboo cylinder, urging the incense stick out. He sat back, inspected the hanji characters drawn delicately on the stick, smelled it, looked over the short scroll of potential locations Zau had brought. He selected one, Zau’s least favourite choice. Zau was displeased.
He repeated the ceremony with another kau cim master to much better effect, one who used cedar as the base for his sticks of incense. This one would go a long way. He had shown deference in every action, found the path through the future that would lead to most happiness to his client today and within the next year.
A time and a place selected, Zau now only needed to prepare the appropriate invitation. He reached out to the owner of one of his businesses in Seattle, prevailed upon him to build an osier, a vessel for a message to a goddess, and to have it transported to the top of Mt. Rainier and immolated. This subtle message would be received by one who watched for it, one who would set in motion the connections in the proper order, with the appropriate minor gods and demons propitiated.
He retired to the cellars of a Taoist temple, a large plant indigenous to the area around Mt. Fuji in Japan in hand. He burnt the plant carefully, using a petrol derivative that had been in use for hundreds of years. He erased all sign that he had been there, secure in the knowledge that the message would be passed along chthonic channels to the household he required, in time to intersect the message from America winging through the sky.
He left quietly, had his driver take him to Pearl River Tower, where he settled down to wait. He had prepared. He had acquired the elements necessary to make her welcome, to ensure her agreement, to make her yearn to assist him. She would adopt this idea as her own, be his agent of retribution.
Zau could have had his assistant contact her assistant on the phone and arranged the meeting in a few minutes, but there was pleasure in the old ways, meaning. And often power.