Tick
Lu-Tze was in his Garden of Five Surprises when the air sparkled and fragmented and swirled into a shape in front of him.
He looked up from his ministrations to the yodelling stick insect, who'd been off its food.
Lobsang stood on the path. The boy was wearing a black robe dotted with stars, which blew and rattled its rags around him on this windless morning as if he was standing in the centre of a gale. Which, Lu-Tze supposed, he more or less was.
'Back again, wonder boy?' said the sweeper.
'In a way, I never leave,' said Lobsang. 'Things have gone well with you?'
'Don't you know?'
'I could. But part of me has to do this the traditional way.'
'Well, the abbot is mighty suspicious and there's some amazing rumours flying around the place. I didn't say much. What do I know about anything? I'm just a sweeper.'
With that, Lu-Tze turned his attention to the sick insect. He'd counted to four under his breath before Lobsang said: 'Please? I have to know. I believe that the fifth surprise is you. Am I right?'
Lu-Tze cocked his head. A low noise, which he'd heard for so long he no longer consciously heard it, had changed its tone.
'The spinners are all winding out,' he said. 'They know you're here, lad.'
'I shall not be here long, Sweeper. Please?'
'You just want to know my little surprise?'
'Yes. I know nearly everything else,' said Lobsang.
'But you are Time. What I tell you in the future you'll know now, right?'
'But I'm partly human. I want to stay partly human. That means doings things the right way round. Please?'
Lu-Tze sighed and looked for a while down the avenue of cherry blossom.
'When the pupil can beat the master, there is nothing the master cannot tell him,' he said. 'Remember?'
'Yes.'
'Very well. The Iron Dojo should be free.'
Lobsang looked surprised. 'Uh, the Iron Dojo ... Isn't that the one with all the sharp spikes in the walls?'
'And the ceiling, yes. The one that's like being inside a giant porcupine turned inside out.'
Lobsang looked horrified. 'But that's not for practice! The rules say-'
'That's the one,' said Lu-Tze. 'And I say we use it.'
'Oh.'
'Good. No argument,' said Lu-Tze. 'This way, lad.'
Blossom cascaded from the trees as they passed. They entered the monastery, and took the same route they'd taken once before. This brought them into the Hall of the Mandala, and the sand rose like a dog welcoming its master and spiralled in the air far below Lobsang's sandals. Lu-Tze heard the shouts of the attendants behind him.
News like this spread throughout the valley like ink in water. Hundreds of monks, apprentices and sweepers were trailing the pair as they crossed the inner courtyards, like the tail of a comet.
Above them, all the time, petals of cherry blossom fell like snow. At last Lu-Tze reached the high, round metal door of the Iron Dojo. The clasp of the door was fifteen feet up. No one who did not belong there was supposed to open the door of the dojo.
The sweeper nodded at his former apprentice.
'You do it,' he said. I can't.'
Lobsang glanced at him, and then looked up at the high clasp. Then he pressed a hand against the iron.
Rust spread under his fingers. Red stains spread out across the ancient metal. The door began to creak, and then to crumble. Lu-Tze prodded it with an experimental finger, and a slab of biscuit-strong metal fell out and collapsed on the flagstones.
'Very impress-' he began. A squeaky rubber elephant bounced off his head.
'Bikkit!'
The crowd parted. The chief acolyte ran forward, carrying the abbot.
'What is the wanna bikkit BIKKIT meaning of this? Who is wozza funny man this person, Sweeper? The spinners are dancing in their hall!'
Lu-Tze bowed.
'He is Time, reverend one, as you have suspected,' he said. Still bent in the bow, he looked up and sideways at Lobsang.
'Bow!' he hissed.
Lobsang looked puzzled. 'I should bow even now?' he said.
'Bow, you little stonga, or I shall teach you such discipline! Show deserved respect!…