Read Online Garden of Empress Cassia by Gabrielle Wang - Free Book Online

understand what Uncle Ting was talking about. The cycle of change – yin and yang. I wonder how long I have to wait for the cycle to come good again.
She sighed and opened the door of the shop. Peppy danced around her feet, almost doing backflips, his little tail wagging furiously. ‘I love you too, Peps.’ She picked him up and sat on the stairs. Peppy lay his head on her shoulder. He could feel her sadness.
    Mimi sat thinking –
If I was Gemma, where would I go to use the pastels? I would want a place that was quiet, because I wouldn’t want to be caught. But then again, I’m such a show off that I’d want everyone to see my fantastic creation.
Mimi went through a dozen places in her mind. Suddenly her eyes lit up.
Ghost Gum Park would be the perfect place! Empty on weekdays and packed on the weekends.
‘That’s where she is, Peps, for sure.’
    She grabbed the torch and told Peppy to
stay.
Only ghosts and crazy people went to Ghost Gum Park at night. A creeping fear began pricking her spine like a million icy needles. Mimi was neither a ghost nor a crazy, but she knew she had to go. She had to save Gemma and most of all, she had to get the pastels back.

There was only a fraction of a moon that night, partly covered with streaks of grey clouds with the occasional star struggling to shine through them. Mimi trembled and her teeth chattered as she entered the park. She knew it wasn’t from the cold.
    As she headed down the main path she saw the huge ghost gum on the rise. Its stark white trunk and branches with long spindly fingers looked like giant arms stretching out to grab any passerby. Locals called it the hanging tree.
    At the south end of the park, the usual trickle of Black Grass Creek had become a raging river. Mimi skidded down through the bushes to a muddy path that ran beside the creek.
    The canopy of trees above created an eerie light. Some people said they had seen ghosts of the hanged in the woods down there.
But I don’t believe in ghosts,
Mimi reminded herself. She set her mind on her goal – finding Gemma and the pastels.
    The smell of onion weed was strong in the air and the rushing water of the creek seemed to be calling her name,
Meeemeeee . . . meeeeeemeeeeeee . . .
    Then she saw it, the glow of a fire on the other side of the torrent. Two dark figures moving, their long shadows dancing upon the face of the cliff.
    Mimi could see why Gemma had chosen this spot. The huge rock face was like a giant TV screen. Any drawing could be seen from almost anywhere in the park.
    She headed for the bridge which was about a kilometre upstream. A sudden piercing scream rose above the sound of the rushing torrent.
    â€˜Gemma!’ Mimi yelled frantically, but her voice was carried away by the wind. Mimi knew there was no time to get to the bridge.
    Where Mimi was standing, the creek widened, then cascaded over rocks in a series of rapids. Boulders, like giant bowling balls, had fallen many thousands of years ago from the cliff above. Normally, this was the perfect place to cross, but today the boulders were surrounded by a flood of raging white water. Still, Mimi knew she had to take the chance.
    She walked back ten paces, then ran as fast as she could towards the water’s edge. Landing on all fours in the middle of the first boulder, she clung on to its slippery surface as white water gushed around her, splashing up and soaking her clothes.
Only two to go,
she told herself. But the next jump was going to be far more difficult. With no run-up, she would have to do a cat leap.
    She calmed her breathing down, then pushed off. But her jump was not long enough. She landed hard on the side of the boulder and slipped down its rough surface into the water. A searing pain ripped through her knee. With all her strength, she clawed and clambered back up, then sat on top of the rock nursing her bleeding wound. The pain turned into a throbbing ache. She