by Cindy Pon
He never did.
Zhen Ni was lying across her large platform bed with a deep purple cushion beneath her elbows. Her eyebrows knitted together as she studied the black and white stones on the board in front of her. She was playing her usual afternoon game of Go, but Lan had taken the place of Skybright as her partner. Skybright tried not to dwell on the fact that her mistress had not asked her to play since Lan had arrived. It made things easier for her, Skybright reasoned. Let Lan face the repercussions if she were foolish enough to win a game over Zhen Ni!
Skybright wiped the jade jars and boxes on Zhen Ni’s vanity, arranging then rearranging them perfectly on the rose wood table. She didn’t sing while she worked, her mood too heavy after over a week of not seeing Kai Sen and worrying for him. And from never knowing exactly how she should act in front of Lan, always feeling as if she were intruding. Always feeling awkward and irrelevant. She knew deep down that she was truly an outsider now, different than everyone. Skybright could never marry, but neither would she ever get her monthly letting, a passage into womanhood that was so fraught with meaning for other girls.
Zhen Ni and Lan whispered behind her on the bed, their fingers entwined.
Skybright had opened every lattice window in the large bedchamber, and a soft summer breeze stirred, bringing the subtle fragrance of orange blossoms. Afternoon sunlight cast diagonal patterns against the pale green walls. Skybright had just begun wiping the large bronzed mirror hanging above the vanity when Zhen Ni touched her shoulder, startling her.
“Could I speak with you in the reception hall, Sky?” her mistress said.
Placing the cloth she had been cleaning with on the vanity, Skybright followed her mistress into the spacious reception hall. The doors leading out to the courtyard were pulled closed to allow the girls their privacy.
“Yes, mistress?” Skybright said, unable to deny how truly happy Zhen Ni appeared, her cheeks rounded and glowing with natural color. Her expressive eyes seemed to hold an inner light.
“I’d like you to speak with Lan,” Zhen Ni said in a hushed voice.
Panic surged through Skybright. “About what?”
Her mistress laughed softly and touched Skybright’s sleeve, in the way she always did when she wanted to cajole Skybright into doing something. “Don’t be silly. About anything,” she whispered. “I want you to get to know her better. You’re so quiet and withdrawn when she’s around. I want you to be friends, Sky.”
Skybright almost let out a sigh. “I’m your handmaid, mistress. It isn’t my place to chatter on with Mistress Fei—”
“Do this for me, Sky. Please?” Zhen Ni had her by the wrist and was pulling her back toward the bedchamber. “I’ll leave you two alone for awhile,” she said, and pushed the door aside and scampered out into the courtyard before Skybright could reply.
This time, Skybright did let out a long breath of exasperation.
Zhen Ni always got what she wanted.
Skybright straightened her shoulders before stepping back inside the bedchamber. Lan had moved to sit on the edge of Zhen Ni’s bed, and it seemed to swallow her petite frame. Aside from her robust laugh, Lan was soft spoken and much more reserved than Zhen Ni. But then, she was a guest in the Yuan manor. The two girls studied each other silently before Skybright said, “Do you need anything, mistress? Tea? Or perhaps fruit or something sweet?”
Lan’s bow-shaped mouth curved into a smile, and Skybright had to admit Lan had a beautiful smile, bright and open. Still, she imagined her mistress kissing Lan’s full lips, saw again the rouge that had smeared across their cheeks when she had found them that early morning, and Skybright remembered once more her own shock and confusion. She was jealous. Not because her mistress had chosen to share her bed with another girl, but because Lan had obviously filled Zhen Ni’s heart so completely. Was there any room left for her?
“Please call me Lan.”
Skybright bristled. This girl was asking her to break one of the most fundamental rules of decorum. “I’m not allowed to call you only by your given name, mistress.” Skybright bowed her head in acquiescence to emphasize her point.
An uncomfortable silence.
Finally, Skybright lifted her chin to see Lan red-faced, Zhen Ni’s embroidered sheet twisted in both fists. “I apologize, Skybright,” she said in a husky voice. “I come from a humble home, and we have no personal servants. We’re fortunate to have a cook and a housekeeper who come and help Mother, but neither of them live with us.”
“Please don’t apologize, Mistress Fei.” Skybright had known from the start that Lan’s family was not as wealthy as the Yuans, but didn’t realize how much so until now. They stared at each other awkwardly.
“Perhaps we are more alike than not?” Lan said after a long moment, smiling shyly.
No, Skybright thought, and bit her tongue. No matter how poor Lan’s family, how low her stature, it was still above that of handmaid. Even if Skybright wore a fancier tunic and more elaborately embroidered slippers, it was only because Zhen Ni wished for her to have them. Her mistress treated her well, and they loved each other, but this conversation only stressed more to Skybright how different she was from Lan, each of them trapped within their own stations.
Seeing that Skybright had no intention of replying, Lan swallowed and tried again. “Zhen Ni speaks so highly of you.” Lan’s face softened just from saying her mistress’s name. “You’re like a sister to her.”
“We grew up together since we were babes,” Skybright replied. “We’ve never spent a day apart.” Her voice wavered at the end, and the threat of tears gathered in her eyes. Saying these simple truths drove deeper just how much had changed for Skybright and Zhen Ni in the past month. How much Skybright could lose. It felt as if it were all slipping from her, because Zhen Ni had fallen in love and refused to marry. Because Skybright had discovered that she wasn’t truly mortal. And she saw no way to close this widening chasm between them.
“I’m envious,” Lan said. “I have just one sister, and she’s six years older than me. We were never very close, and now I’m fortunate if I see her once a year.”
What did Zhen Ni want from her? For Skybright to jump on the bed and ask Lan to join her in a game of Go? As shy as Lan was, Skybright could see she was truly making an effort to be friendly, but Skybright found it impossible to respond other than formally—as a servant. A servant was all she had been her entire life, and it seemed unfair that Zhen Ni expected her to do the impossible and break decorum simply because she desired it.
Mercifully, Zhen Ni returned just then, bearing a tray laden with sweet buns, salted walnuts, and sliced pears and oranges. She beamed at each of them in turn, as if she had played matchmaker and made a successful pairing. “Have I interrupted something?” she said brightly. “I’ve asked Oriole to bring in a pot of tea as well.”
Relieved to have something to do, Skybright took the tray from her mistress and began setting the dishes on the enameled tea table.
“What shall we do for the rest of the afternoon?” Zhen Ni asked, throwing an arm over Lan’s shoulder.
“A game,” Lan replied, “Something so Skybright can join us too.”
Zhen Ni tapped her chin with one finger. “We can’t do a poetry composition or recitation contest. Obviously Go and chess are out.” Her mistress pursed her lips and Lan did the same, making fish faces at Zhen Ni. They burst into laughter and Skybright turned from them, feeling weighted down, extraneous, wishing Oriole would hurry with the tea so she could pour it and have something to occupy her time.
“A card game,” Zhen Ni announced triumphantly. “After we’re done with our tea.” Her mistress looked around the bedchamber and frowned. “We only have two stools in here. I never noticed before. Could you bring in another, Sky?”
Skybright murmured yes and went into Zhen Ni’s reception hall, but there were only heavy sitting chairs and no other stools. Frustrated, she left to search for one in the manor, while Z
hen Ni and Lan took their tea together.
It was the last day of the seventh moon, the last day to celebrate the Ghost Festival before the spirits were supposed to return to the underworld. The quarter moon was still low against the sky when Skybright decided she needed to find Kai Sen, to be sure he was all right. She hadn’t changed to serpent form in over a week, having learned how to quench the heat that wanted to rise by concentrating on coolness instead, and envisioning her legs staying separate. It took all her will to fight the urge, to deny that part of herself.
But tonight, she would shape shift.
Skybright ran into the looming forest, comforting as a lover’s embrace. How much she’d missed it this past week! Stopping by one of the big gnarled trunks, she stripped off her sleep clothes and shifted, taking on the serpent form as if she were pulling on her favorite pair of embroidered slippers. The night opened itself to her, humming with life and overflowing with the ancient aroma of the forest. She lifted her head and tasted the air, felt the foxes and rats scatter as she slithered between the cypresses, using her heightened senses to search for any humans near. Or demons.
She returned to the clearing where she had first seen the monks fighting, but the space was empty and silent. Nothing larger than a rodent was within a half league of her. Cautiously, she slid into the forest opening, feeling the ruts and grooves beneath her tail from the fight that had taken place. The scent of those killed, mortal and demonic, was so faint it tasted like a distant memory. And the site had been cleansed by the monks after the bodies had been cleared. Even the zombie she had slain had disappeared.
Had the monks defeated the demons and closed the breach in hell? Where was Kai Sen now?
Just the thought of him sent a vibration of pleasure through her, starting in her chest, the warmth winding leisurely to the tip of her tail.
“I was hoping you would return in your human form,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Skybright reared, hissing, her hands drawn into claws at her sides. Stone stood like a statue at the clearing’s edge, his form glowing subtly. He appeared in the same resplendent armor that he had worn when they first met. He shimmered, vanished, then manifested again right in front of her, quicker than she was able to blink. She fought the urge to prostrate herself before him. Instead, she slithered back, fangs bared.
His expression was inscrutable, like the carvings of the gods. She found herself comparing him to Kai Sen. Stone, perfect and remote—the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Kai Sen, brimming over with warmth and life—who stirred so many conflicting emotions within her.
Stone didn’t try to close their distance again. She was grateful, for she knew she could never outrun him.
“It is so curious that you cannot speak in this form. Your mother was known for her eloquence in her serpent form. The things she would say before she killed her victims.” Stone gave a low chuckle. “She would draw on classic literature and poetry, from The Book of the Divine and The Book of the Dead. She spoke with so much passion and wrath, she would bring the men to tears, sniveling and groveling at her tail before she slew them.”
The passage Kai Sen had read to her said most victims died in their sleep. It obviously got it wrong when it came to her … mother. Skybright mentally stuttered over the word.
“Among all the temptresses the gods created, yours was always my personal favorite.” Stone walked a slow circle around her, his hands held behind his back. His every movement hinted at the immense power he held in check. Skybright kept still, refusing to show any fear, to let him know that she was intimidated. “Devastatingly beautiful in human form, the most stunning women I’ve ever seen, yet still sublime in a different way in her serpent form. So lithe and powerful. So lethal.”
He stopped in front of her. They were not a hand width apart. His scent overwhelmed her, an aphrodisiac, deep as earth and high as any heavenly peak. She bowed her head, trying to slow her racing heart.
“I would give you your voice back if I could, Skybright.”
She flinched, and it took all her will not to rise on her serpent coil. He knew her name.
He smiled, and seemed to hold the moon in his black eyes. “I am not a mind reader. Although after so many centuries, I am good at gauging people. And I have an infinite number of spies.” He raised a hand and a silver robe glimmered into existence, smelling of stars and moonlight. “Won’t you shape shift back so we can talk?”
She shook her head.
“I understand. You feel exposed in your human form. It is as it should be. But know that even though you appear mortal on top, unlike other serpent demons—” Stone gestured to her naked torso and arms, “make no mistake that you are fully demonic.” He stroked her face and her lower half leaped, resonating to his touch. “I will be here when you are ready to talk,” he said, and disappeared.
The only indication that he was ever there was his unmistakable, lingering scent, and the flourish of warmth upon her cheek.
Skybright remained for a long time in the empty clearing after Stone had gone. Who was he? It was clear to her that he was immortal and powerful. But why did he take such an interest in her? And could she believe what he said about her mother? Instinct told her that Stone wasn’t lying about knowing Opal, and that he did believe she was Opal’s daughter. And that was as far as she was willing to take his word.
The rest of the night she explored the vast forest, searching for monks or monsters, but she sensed and found nothing. Disappointed, she hoped that Kai Sen was all right. In the hour before dawn, she lay by the creek and concentrated on shape shifting from her serpent form back into a girl, then into serpent again. She did this until she could change with ease and little thought, almost by reflex. Finally satisfied, she pulled on her sleep clothes and returned to the Yuan manor, as the birds began to greet the day with morning song.
Skybright had drifted to sleep without meaning to. She had only wanted to lie down for a moment, to rest her eyes, but the night’s activities had exhausted her, and she woke with a start, not knowing what time it was. She changed quickly and hurried to Zhen Ni’s quarters. The angle of the morning light told her she was a quarter of an hour late.
The panels to Zhen Ni’s reception hall were thrown wide open, and she could hear shouting from within. Alarmed, Skybright ran inside.
Lady Yuan stood in the middle of the bedchamber, gripping a pair of silk shorts in one hand and a bamboo switch in the other. Zhen Ni crouched in front of her mother, long hair obscuring her face, completely unclothed.
“Did you think I would never find out? I’m your mother! How long were you going to lie to me? To your father?” Lady Yuan said, her voice rising with each word. Skybright cringed, shocked. She had never heard Lady Yuan raise her voice. “To hide this!” Lady Yuan waved the silk shorts, and Skybright saw that it was stained with dried blood. Goddess, where had she found that? Why hadn’t Zhen Ni given them to her to wash? “That you’ve come into womanhood and deliberately refused to fulfill your duties as a daughter.” Lady Yuan shook with rage. “How long have you kept this from me?”
“It only started this month, Mama. I swear.” Zhen Ni was hugging herself, speaking to the stone floor. It broke Skybright’s heart to see her this way.
“Your oaths mean nothing to me. You’re a liar and … and to think I come and find you in bed with her!”
It was only then that Skybright noticed Lan cowering in the large bed, the sheet drawn over her mouth so only her round eyes peered out.
Goddess have mercy. What had they done?
“Not only do you refuse to fulfill your duties as our daughter, but you give yourself to a girl.” The bamboo switch made a swishing sound as it slashed in Lan’s direction. “I welcome you into my home as a guest, and you show your gratitude by seducing my daughter? Some households might approve of two girls sharing a bed, but not mine.”
“No! It’s not Lan’s fault!” Zhen Ni screamed, rising to her knees.
&n
bsp; Lady Yuan struck the switch across Zhen Ni’s bare back. Her mistress crumpled forward, refusing to cry out. “I’ve spoiled you too much. Been too indulgent. And this is what it gets me.” Lady Yuan raised her arm again and Skybright sprang forward, throwing herself between mother and daughter.
She wrapped her arms around Zhen Ni’s shaking body, shielding her.
“You! Worthless handmaid. Of all the ungrateful creatures. I raised you as my own, as part of our family, and you betray me like this.” The switch came down hard across Skybright’s back and arms, again and again, and Zhen Ni cried out with each thrash. “My daughter could never have done this without your help.”
“No, Mama, no! I’m sorry!” Zhen Ni and Skybright clung to each other. Her mistress’s arms were wound around her waist, and she sobbed into Skybright’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry!”
“You need to learn a lesson, youngest daughter. You don’t go through life shirking your obligations, only doing things which please you.” Slash. “You grow up, and you accept that you do things because you must.” Slash.
Skybright kept her face buried in the crook of Zhen Ni’s neck, biting her lip hard as the throbbing pain increased with each bamboo stroke—she lost count after ten. Lady Yuan hit her as if she were possessed. Skybright smothered a moan when the switch sang through the air, striking her again across the back. Her demonic side writhed, a whisper in her chest. She could shift, kill Lady Yuan in a matter of seconds. The thought filled her with terror, and a sob finally escaped, wracking her body, as she ignored the physical pain on the surface and wrangled with her monstrosity within.
A flurry of footsteps clattered into the bedchamber. “Lady Yuan, Lady Yuan! Stop, I beg you! They’re just thoughtless girls.”
