Yuan reached into the truck one last time and hoisted out a familiar bundle. Shan helped him balance the bound ancestral tablets onto his shoulder. “This one has done more traveling than any of us,” he said with a laugh.
“The old bandit is ready for a new adventure,” Shan said.
“All of us old bandits,” Yuan replied with a shine in his eyes.
At last came the sheep, leaping to the ground the moment Lung Tso and Genghis lowered the tailgate, some running among the shepherds as if by instinct, others darting into the night, toward the rich grass below.
From somewhere in the distance the deep voice of an owl echoed, sounding like a prayer horn.
Shan did not know if it was the flight of their animals or the growing spell of the vast moonlit land before them but he saw a new wildness enter the eyes of the dropka, a feral skittishness. As they began filing down the path Lokesh stood at the side, touching each one, blessing each with a quick, joyful prayer. Chenmo led several in song as they descended the slope.
The professor and Rapeche paused, waiting for the last of the party to pass before finally raising their hands to Shan in farewell. Then they turned and became two more of the wary shadows that merged with the night, leaving the world behind.