“Did Wang Tie-Tie actually tell you that you should receive a more expensive bridal gift?” Xiao Yen asked.
“No. She just said this gift was inappropriate. He should have sent jewels or something, a gift just for me. She said the writing set was a selfish present. That he gave it to me to keep it in his family, not so that I might enjoy it. But I would enjoy it! I’m not some illiterate peasant who doesn’t know how to write her own name. I compose poetry that even Fu Be Be says is good.”
Xiao Yen weighed both sides of the argument. It was an expensive gift, well made and beautiful. She believed Wang Tie-Tie was right though. It wasn’t appropriate for a young bride. Gan Ou should have something that was hers alone, not something an unscrupulous husband could “borrow” and never return.
“Wang Tie-Tie’s just looking after your interests,” Xiao Yen said, trying to smooth things out.
“No, she isn’t. She only wants to protect her interests, to further her plans.”
“That’s not true,” Xiao Yen replied. “She’s looking out for the family.”
Gan Ou snorted. “She isn’t part of our family. She’s our uncle’s wife, not our mother’s sister.”
“She took us in when our father died,” Xiao Yen pointed out.
Gan Ou looked away, then glanced back with a sly smile. “So, if she’s looking out for us, tell me about the husband she’s found for you. Tell me when you’ll be meeting with the matchmaker.”
Xiao Yen looked down. Her hands lay still in her lap. Master Wei had punished her often enough for fidgeting that she no longer did it. The silence grew tangible, dripping off the walls like wax dripping off the candles.
Gan Ou plucked at the bedspread. She started to say something, but stopped when Xiao Yen stared at her. Gan Ou bit her lip and wrung her hands, uncomfortable in the growing silence, while Xiao Yen took a deep breath and relaxed, her soul expanding in the familiar quiet. Gan Ou grew more agitated. Xiao Yen hid her smile. Finally, here was something she could do to tease Gan Ou.
Xiao Yen let the silence expand another few moments before she took pity on her sister and replied. “I don’t know who Wang Tie-Tie has picked out for me to marry. Maybe no matchmaker has approached her, or will approach her, until after you’re married. Or maybe she has someone in mind, but she hasn’t told me yet. I’ve only been home for one evening. But I know Wang Tie-Tie has my best interests at heart.”
Xiao Yen heard the lie even as she said it. Wang Tie-Tie was selfish. She wanted Xiao Yen in the paper mage school for her own reasons, not because it was best for Xiao Yen. “I must do my duty,” she added, almost whispering.
Gan Ou emitted a harsh bark of laughter. “Your duty? Your duty is to your family, to your mother and me.”
“Wang Tie-Tie is the head of our family,” Xiao Yen said. “Every year she goes through the dedication ceremony and swears to follow the tenets listed in our family poem.” Xiao Yen’s most treasured possession at school was a scroll with two of the stanzas from the family poem written on it. Wang Tie-Tie had copied them for her. Xiao Yen marveled at the calligraphy every time she studied it. Though Xiao Yen could fold for hours without lowering her arms, her hand would never be as graceful as her aunt’s.
Gan Ou shot a skeptical look at Xiao Yen and said, “You’ve always been naïve, little sister.”
Xiao Yen was tempted to let the silence grow to make Gan Ou uncomfortable again. Instead, she said, “I still wish you ten thousand happinesses for your upcoming wedding.”
Gan Ou’s smile made the room seem brighter. “Fu Be Be said Ko Fu is handsome, and his neighbors say he’s kind. And he’s smart too! He passed his civil exam on the first try.”
“The first try! Really! You must be very proud of him,” Xiao Yen said. “I passed my school exam on the first try,” she added.
Gan Ou acted as if she hadn’t heard Xiao Yen. “Ko Fu comes from a small family, but he says he wants many children, to make up for it.”
Xiao Yen giggled with Gan Ou. They both knew what it took to achieve “many children.”
“Fu Be Be said she knows a woman who had a cousin who married a woman who owned a magic pearl that—”
“That’s impossible,” Xiao Yen interrupted.
Gan Ou looked startled. A younger sister wasn’t supposed to contradict her older sister like that.
Xiao Yen made herself continue. “Only artifacts can be made magic, not elements. Maybe this woman had a magic pearl ring or necklace. She couldn’t have had just a magic pearl. That would take too much strength, too much energy from the mage when he’d made it.”
“How would you know?” Gan Ou asked in her most annoyed older sister voice.
“I study magic,” Xiao Yen said. “What do you think I do at school? We don’t just sit around folding pretty flowers all day.”
“Why can’t, what, an element, be made magic?” Gan Ou asked, still challenging.
“Elements are more . . . permanent,” Xiao Yen said, trying to use terms that Gan Ou would understand, and not talk in the manner Master Wei always did. “Artifacts are made, and can be unmade. Paper is an easy element to enchant, because it doesn’t last. Cloth too. A ring, anything metal, is harder to make magic, because it lasts so long. It has a life all its own, so it takes a lot of a mage’s strength, and energy, to make something like that magic. A mage might have to die to make something like a pearl magic.” Xiao Yen paused. “Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe a mage gave his life to enchant the pearl. Maybe that’s why the pearl is magic,” Xiao Yen ended, trying to mollify Gan Ou.
Silence crept back into the room. Xiao Yen tried again. “What was this magic pearl supposed to do?”
“It was supposed to help the woman have many sons,” Gan Ou finally said, looking away.
“I will pray day and night that you have many sons,” Xiao Yen said in the most pompous voice she could. “May you never have the bad fortune of having a daughter.”
Gan Ou giggled, then continued in a more serious tone. “I have wished for at least one daughter too. ‘Sons to protect you, daughters to warm your heart.’ ”
Xiao Yen reached out and held her sister’s hand. Their mother had often quoted those words to them when their male cousins had teased them too much.
They smiled at each other for another moment, finally at peace.
Xiao Yen handed the candle to her sister, then climbed under the light cotton blanket and curled up on her side of the bed, closest to the wall. It was the coldest spot in the bed, so she, as the younger sister, always had to sleep there. Gan Ou placed the candle back on the window ledge, blew all three out, then climbed under the covers as well.
“Sweetest dreams of nothingness,” Xiao Yen said.
“The same for you, dear heart,” Gan Ou replied, part of their usual ritual.
Xiao Yen lay awake, listening to her sister’s breathing grow slower, more even. She listened beyond the room as well, catching the unfolding silence, holding it to her like a second blanket. Funny how she needed the quiet now. She remembered when she’d first started at the paper mage school, more than four years before, and how she’d hated the stillness.
Xiao Yen drifted in the quiet, resolved to not think about her conflicting duties: to Wang Tie-Tie; to her mother; or even, as Master Wei pointed out, to herself.
As sleep came, Xiao Yen dreamed she danced with her crane again. She lifted one arm over her head, then the other, in a graceful imitation of flying. The crane jumped into the air, straight-legged, long toes pointed down. Xiao Yen jumped too, the happy jumps of a child, playing.
At one point the crane reached its long beak across the space dividing them. Xiao Yen thought it was going to peck her feet, but it picked up a figure that had been dancing, unnoticed, next to Xiao Yen. It flung the doll shape over its shoulder, much the same way her crane had flung Fat Fang’s birds out the door that afternoon.
Xiao Yen tried to see whom the crane had flung. Had it been Wang Tie-Tie? Her mother? Some mysterious stranger she
was supposed to marry?
It didn’t matter. The dance went on.
* * *
Xiao Yen and Udo pushed through the crowd in the street gathered outside Young Lu’s complex. The gate was open, but they couldn’t see beyond the spirit wall. A broad peasant woman, with froglike eyes set almost on the sides of her face, stood with her mouth open, gaping. Xiao Yen asked her what had happened.
“The horse soldiers came. Looking for thieves,” she said.
“Oh no,” said Xiao Yen. She made her way to the gate.
“Wait!” Udo called from behind her.
Xiao Yen ignored him and hurried through.
No one stood in the outer, formal courtyard. The brass bells hanging under the eaves of the Hall of Ancestors rang with quiet sweet notes across the empty space. It seemed peaceful, but something wasn’t right. Xiao Yen took a deep breath and it came to her. She couldn’t smell incense. Young Lu always burned incense to honor her ancestors. She’d never let it go out unless something was terribly wrong.
Xiao Yen ran to the gate that separated the formal courtyard from the family compound. Udo stopped her before she could go through and asked, “Are you sure it’s safe?”
Xiao Yen couldn’t take the time to answer, to try to explain. Maybe it wasn’t safe. But Young Lu was family. Maybe Xiao Yen could help Vakhtang’s soldiers find the thieves. She had to try.
The family courtyard was in chaos. Beds, wardrobes, dishes, clothes were scattered everywhere. No one seemed to be in charge. Soldiers—men wearing Vakhtang’s badge, the stylized horse—stood clumped together. One group shared a jug of wine. Three soldiers came out of one of the buildings, carrying a heavy wardrobe between them. They heaved it out the door. When it hit the ground, it split and spilled its contents. A few soldiers cheered, and the group went back into the building.
Xiao Yen put her hands over her mouth, too shocked to say anything. What were the soldiers doing? Why were they destroying Young Lu’s things? Where were the thieves? She backed up a step. These weren’t good men. Udo had been right. It wasn’t safe. Someone in the household had betrayed them.
A strong hand gripped her upper right arm. She heard Udo cursing and struggling. Xiao Yen looked back. A man with greasy hair leered at her. A scar streaked from his right eye to his lip. Two teeth were missing from the upper right side of his mouth, under the scar. He lifted the bag from her back and handed it to another soldier.
Xiao Yen forced herself to look away. Maybe if they didn’t realize how important her bag was they wouldn’t destroy everything inside of it. How would she recover the hairpin?
The man holding Udo struck him hard enough to make Udo drop to his knees. Udo’s head lolled to one side before he straightened up. He didn’t say anything more, but just glared at his captors. Then the soldier holding Xiao Yen yanked her arm, making her look forward.
Another of Vakhtang’s soldiers, wearing a leather chest plate, walked across the courtyard toward her. He picked his teeth with a short knife as he walked. A group of men followed him, like an honor guard. The soldier with the knife stopped in front of Xiao Yen, then looked her all over, pausing at her face, hands, and boots. Xiao Yen didn’t struggle. She stood tall, and willed her gaze to be ice.
The soldier took his knife out of his mouth and called one of the honor guards to him. He said something in the man’s ear. Xiao Yen listened hard, but he spoke too quietly for her to understand. The guard made a half-bow and rapidly walked away from the group. The man with the knife went back to picking his teeth and looking at Xiao Yen. Udo shouted, asking who he was, what they wanted. Xiao Yen stiffened when she heard the blow. Udo stopped asking questions.
The man with the knife continued to watch her with interest. Xiao Yen stared at the man’s face, willing him to challenge her gaze. He wouldn’t meet her eye. Was he afraid of her? Xiao Yen wasn’t certain.
She stared so hard at the man with the knife she didn’t see the guard return. She only looked up at Udo’s gasp. Gi Tang, Bei Xi’s guard, the one they’d left with Ehran, stood there. Xiao Yen glanced at him, then went back to staring at the man with the knife. Ten thousand questions fluttered inside her. How had Gi Tang escaped from Ehran? Where was Ehran? Was he hurt? Was he captured? And Young Lu? Had she been taken into custody because she was Xiao Yen’s aunt? What about the rest of Young Lu’s family?
“That’s her,” Gi Tang said. Xiao Yen continued to ignore him. She didn’t want to show any fear.
The soldier that held her arm pulled it back, and grabbed her other arm as well. Rough rope slid across her wrists. Gi Tang stopped the soldier, saying something that Xiao Yen didn’t catch in the horsemen’s dialect, the language of the kingdom of Turk. Gi Tang looked around, then grabbed a peacock blue silk jacket from one of the broken wardrobes. He tore a strip off it and gestured for the man behind Xiao Yen to turn her around. They made her clasp her fingers together while they tied her wrists. They took a long while, tying many knots.
At any other time, Xiao Yen would have laughed. They took such care, as if she were some great mage, not a student, barely graduated, on her first commission.
They weren’t as careful with Udo. His face had already bruised from where he’d been hit. The soldiers bent Udo’s arms up behind his back when they tied them. It looked painful.
The soldiers circled Xiao Yen as they marched across the formal courtyard, around the spirit wall, and out the gate. The crowd shouted insults. What if Vakhtang killed her, and hung her body on the city walls like a common thief? Wang Tie-Tie would be so disappointed if word ever got to her of how Xiao Yen had died.
The crowd grew louder, and more bold, when they saw Udo. He was taller than everyone around him. Nothing could mask his foreign looks or hair. Xiao Yen shook her head. He didn’t belong here, in the Middle Kingdom. At least the crowd wouldn’t throw stones or rotten vegetables at him. He was too closely surrounded by soldiers. No one would risk accidentally hitting one of them.
Xiao Yen wished she could close her eyes and wake up in her quiet room at school. This wasn’t a visit from Xi Mong, the bringer of nightmares. What was happening was real. She was going to have to face it.
The soldiers were taller than Xiao Yen was, so she couldn’t look over their shoulders and see where they were going, but there was only one possible destination. She and Udo had never planned how they were going to get into the governor’s compound to see Vakhtang. She had wanted to work that out with Young Lu once she and Udo had returned from the rat dragon’s cave. They didn’t have to worry about that now.
Xiao Yen tried to take deep breaths and stay in her center, but she was scared. More scared than she’d been in the rat dragon’s cave. That beast would have just killed her. Men knew about torture. Plus, Vakhtang could suck the soul from her body, use her essence to make the bubble surrounding his heart stronger. There’d be no hope for rebirth for her until he was killed. Even the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to kill him brought no respite.
The soldiers turned and led them off the street. The gate was wide enough for wagons to pass through. The spirit wall wasn’t just painted; the dragon bulged out of it, as if breaking free, ready to attack. The gray courtyard stones fit so well against each other, it was like they were a single piece of rock. Nothing could escape between the cracks. The buildings, what little she could see of them, were all stone, not wood, with colorful murals covering the walls. Some even seemed to be two-stories tall.
They passed through two more courtyards and were about to go into a third when someone called out a command. The group stopped abruptly. The soldiers surrounding Xiao Yen stood up straight. Xiao Yen smelled their fear.
A soldier grabbed Xiao Yen’s arms. Before she knew what was happening, he’d cut the cloth binding her. She brought her arms down to her sides, flexed her fingers and her toes. It surprised her how solid the ground felt beneath her feet with her hands freed.
A man approached them, followed by another group of soldiers. He asked a question. H
is voice rumbled like water falling down a mountain. Xiao Yen felt the power of the man coming from the inner gate, though she couldn’t see him clearly. The soldier with the knife lost all his casualness. He called Gi Tang forward.
Even Gi Tang spoke with much respect. Xiao Yen blessed Bei Xi for teaching her something of the kingdom of Turic’s language. She caught a few words. He said “Bao Fang,” “trail,” and “thief,” pointing at Xiao Yen.
“I’m not a thief,” she said loudly in her own language, drowning out the other man’s words.
The soldiers around her froze like a cage of icicles.
The man with power laughed. The menace held in that gentle sound caved in Xiao Yen’s stomach. The sweat in her mouth tasted stale. The soldiers in front of her parted.
A single man faced her. His dark brown eyes were like a greedy whirlpool, sucking in everything they saw. They stared at her above a thin, spiked nose. Deep lines ran from next to his nose around the ends of his mouth. A few long hairs—known as a scholar’s beard—grew out of the bottom of his chin. His broad forehead had three furrows running the length of it, with matching lines running from the corners of his eyes; lines the sun had beaten into his face, lines that power ran along.
Xiao Yen had never met another mage before, besides Master Wei. She wished she didn’t have to confront this one.
The man looked at her for a long moment.
Xiao Yen wondered if he’d understood her. She didn’t meet his eye, but kept her gaze demurely unfocused.
“If you aren’t a thief, what are you?” he said, the words rolling from him, wrapping around her like a wet tongue. He spoke the language of the Middle Kingdom with a thick accent, using formal terms.
Xiao Yen drew herself up straighter and replied, “I am Bei Xi’s maid. This”—she paused and flicked a scorn-filled gaze at Gi Tang—“man?” She deliberately made it a question. “He made inappropriate suggestions. I refused. That is the only reason he’s accusing me.”
Paper Mage Page 18
