He smiled sadly. “I did not specify the manner in which he failed. Snow Tiger’s mother was the only woman to rouse him. I suspect that is why she was poisoned when the princess was yet a babe.”
“Stone and sea!” I shook my head. “This tale grows sadder with every turn.”
“Yes.” Master Lo’s gaze returned to the distance. “And I fear it is far from over.”
Although I didn’t think she would wish to see me again, Snow Tiger sent for me two days after dismissing me. Once again, I entered the red walls of the Celestial City, surrounded by an escort of royal attendants and armed eunuchs. And once again, her cage was unlocked to admit me.
You!
Despite everything, the leap of joy in the dragon’s voice made me smile.
Beneath her blindfold, the princess was not smiling. “The dragon within is restless,” she said in a formal tone. “I believe it wishes to see.” She gestured to the tall mirror, still veiled in silk, now placed within her quarters. “I said aloud that I would send for you if it promises not to…” Her voice faltered. “To do what it did before. Without your magic, I cannot be sure it understands.”
“Do you?” I asked the dragon.
Yes. Its tone was wistful. I give my promise. I wished only to give her a worthy mate and the pleasure I took from her.
“I know,” I said. “But you cannot restore her husband, and she did not wish that pleasure returned thusly. It is not your place to choose a mate for her. You must never do it again.”
His tone brightened. Even if she asks it of me?
“Ah…” I eyed Snow Tiger. “That will not happen.”
It might!
“It won’t.”
“Are you arguing with it?” the princess asked with a trace of impatience.
“A little,” I admitted. “But it’s all right, my lady. He gives his promise.”
Her tense shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Then summon your magic, please.”
I did.
Daylight turned to dusk, settling all around us. Either it was growing easier or I was growing stronger. The seemingly endless length of silver-white brightness that roiled throughout Snow Tiger’s being, turning over and over itself, turned faster, glad and excited.
Yes! Now!
I uncovered the mirror as she lowered the blindfold. Her face softened, almost childlike with pleasure. Then again, she was young. No older than me, mayhap younger. It was easy to forget. I watched her watch the dragon’s pearlescent coils in the mirror’s depths, filled with a terrible sympathy. The dragon’s happiness and contentment at seeing itself reflected ran through my thoughts like a song, and I knew she heard it, too. It was a song without beginning or end, a song of snow-capped mountains and clouds and reflections, solitude and contemplation.
“It’s so peaceful there,” Snow Tiger murmured.
Yes.
I don’t know how many hours I spent there. Many. She sent for me every other day while we awaited Lord Jiang’s reply; and every day, it was the same. The dragon greeted me with delight.
The princess seemed to do her best to ignore my presence.
Mindful of Bao’s warning, I bore it well the first two times. I was comfortable with silence and solitude, having experienced a great deal of it in my childhood. My mother and I could go for long hours without speaking to one another, doing whatever needed to be done together with no words required. I sat still and quiet and practiced the Five Styles of Breathing. I understood that I was a necessary imposition that the princess was within her rights to resent, especially given what had passed between us earlier.
And yet…
“You know, I did not choose this, either,” I said on the third visit. “I consented to it. There is a difference.”
Snow Tiger’s dark, dragon-reflecting gaze flicked over to me, then away.
“I didn’t want to leave home in the first place, but at least I found a piece of happiness in Terre d’Ange,” I continued, suddenly and unexpectedly determined to make her hear me. “Unnatural though you may find it, I was content to serve as the Queen’s companion. I was respected and appreciated. And it wasn’t only about the arts of the bedchamber, it was about being loyal and listening. Jehanne was with child when I left, and she was frightened. No doubt that seems weak and foolish to you, because gods know you must be impossibly brave to have survived this past year without going mad, but Jehanne was brave in different ways.”
Now the princess was staring at me incredulously, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“In matters of love and desire, she was fearless.” The words spilled out of me. “Jehanne never apologized for loving two different men, or for loving me, either. She insisted on holding a farewell progress to make sure all of the City knew I was leaving with honor, and she was very beautiful and smelled nicer than anyone I’ve ever known.” My voice rose. “And I’ve not even begun to touch on my father, who I’d only just found, nearly lost, and liked very much! I know that’s naught to what you’ve endured, but I didn’t choose this. And… and I am not just an inconvenient necessity or a useful tool for other hands to wield. I am a person with thoughts and feelings of my own.”
Snow Tiger stared at me a moment longer. “Are you finished?”
It occurred to me that I could probably lose my head for speaking to the Emperor’s daughter thusly. “I am.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” she said in her formal tone. “Although I do not pretend to understand exactly what you were talking about, clearly you are grieving, and I am adding to your burden.” She squared her slender shoulders. “This, I do understand. I killed my bridegroom, a man I may well have grown to love, with my bare hands.”
“I know,” I murmured.
“I thought it was the work of a demon-spirit within me,” the princess said in a clear, precise voice. “As did everyone. And I reviled my own weakness that I should fall prey to such a creature. So did almost everyone around me.” She ticked them off, one finger at a time. “Servants who once fawned on me are grateful to be excused from attending me. Warriors who swore to follow me unto death shun me. My tutors…”
Her voice trailed away.
“Aye?”
She gathered herself. “Swordmaster Wu has gone into exile of his own accord. Master Guo, who taught me calligraphy and poetry, filled his sleeves with stones and waded into a lake. He is dead now.”
My heart ached. “I’m sorry, my lady.”
Her shoulders lifted and fell. “For over a year, every day I thought of taking my own life in shame. Every day. Two things stayed my hand, over and over. One is the knowledge of the grief it would cause my father. The other is the fear that if I took my own life, the demon that inhabits me would be free to prey upon another.” Her face shone with unexpected hope. “Ah, but… things are different now. Would it free the dragon if I were to die?”
No. The dragon was succinct, offering nothing further.
“He says it would not,” I said softly.
“I heard.” The momentary brightness faded. Snow Tiger folded her hands in her lap and gazed at me, delicate frown-lines etched between her brows. “So. All these long months, I have struggled to cling to my sanity, holding on to the faint thread of hope that Master Lo Feng’s return offered. You, I did not expect. For a second time, my world has been turned on its head. Although it is very much a change for the better, there is a great deal that I do not understand. I cannot fathom why Black Sleeve would do such a thing. I cannot imagine how Lord Jiang would sacrifice his own son to such a terrible fate. In these precious hours of peace your magic affords me, I am struggling to make sense of it all. I am sorry if you find me remote.”
I smiled wryly. “Given the circumstances, I cannot exactly blame you for it. It is an awkward way to begin an acquaintance.”
“Yes.” Snow Tiger flushed, but she didn’t look away. “It is not that I am ungrateful. But it is… awkward, yes.” She cocked her head. “Why are you here?”
“Oh…” I sighed. “B
ecause my diadh-anam sent me.” She gestured for me to continue, and I explained it as best I could, although it was always difficult to convey to anyone not of the Maghuin Dhonn. Even the other folk of Alba do not carry their diadh-anams inside them as we do.
“Strange,” the princess mused when I had finished. “Why would your bear-goddess send you so very far away to aid me?”
I cleared my throat. “With all respect, my lady, I believe there is more at stake than the fate of you and your dragon. There is a war pending. Black Sleeve has created weapons, terrible weapons, weapons that Master Lo and others have prayed no one would ever discover. Weapons that spit fire and roar like thunder, hurling deadly projectiles with greater force than any catapult. Had we not opened the Thousand-Cloud Bag and fled, they would have sunk our greatship with ease. If he is not stopped, I think… I think the world will suffer greatly for it.”
Quick as a flash, Snow Tiger moved. Dragon-strong hands gripped my shoulders as she stooped before me. “You think there is some purpose in all of this,” she breathed. “Some greater purpose.”
“I do.” I gazed at her lovely face, lit anew with fierce hope. “I’d lose my wits if I didn’t.”
“I did not know about the weapons.” She released me and rose to pace the room. “I suspect my father concealed the truth from me, fearing it was more than I could bear. He blames himself. He does not want me to do the same.”
“Nor should you,” I murmured. “You are innocent; and the dragon, too.”
Yes.
For the first time, the princess looked at me, truly looked at me, as though she was pleased by my presence. She inclined her head with grace. “I owe you a great debt, Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn.”
“Not so very great,” I said. “Not yet. We are a long way from succeeding, my lady.”
“Still, you have given me hope, and that is a powerful gift.” Snow Tiger touched the mirror’s surface, gazing at the dragon’s undulating coils. “We are grateful for it.”
Yes.
“Thank you,” I said simply to both of them. “And, ah… I hope you will forgive me for speaking out of turn earlier.”
“I do.” She turned back toward me, looking uncommonly young once more, an unexpected look of girlish curiosity on her face. “You spoke of love and desire. What of the handsome young man with the irritable aspect? Master Lo Feng’s apprentice? I caught a glimpse of him fighting my father’s guards, and I heard him speak to you later. He seemed to have a great care for your safety, and you for his concern.”
“Bao?” I flushed.
“Is that his name? Yes.”
“Oh…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Neither of us do. We enjoy one another. Betimes I think it is only circumstance that flung us together. And yet… I am beginning to find it hard to imagine his absence.”
Snow Tiger smiled, sinking to sit cross-legged with fluid elegance, keeping one eye on the mirror. “Perhaps you are more like this queen of whom you spoke than you know. Quick to love and desire, fearless with your heart.”
“Mayhap,” I murmured.
“I am also a person with feelings,” she remarked. “And if you are to be my inconvenient necessity, then I am fortunate that you are capable of great loyalty as well as great passion, no matter how strange.”
In the mirror, the dragon’s shimmering coils twisted and flowed, turning over and over, an endless intertwining. We both watched it, more at ease in one another’s presence than we had been.
“My father is a great man,” Snow Tiger said presently. “But doubt has made him fearful, and he is reluctant to further risk the Mandate of Heaven. Depending on the outcome of his delegation to Lord Jiang, I may have to defy him and seek a way to White Jade Mountain.”
I roused myself. “I know.”
“That goes against all I have been taught.”
“I know,” I repeated.
She glanced at me. “I cannot do it alone, and your magic is the only thing that calms the dragon. May I count on your aid?”
“I meant what I said the other night, my lady,” I replied. “If I may serve you in any way, I will.”
The princess inclined her head. “Thank you.”
We sat in silence awhile longer, breathing in the twilight, until the dragon’s coiling and uncoiling slowed and it drifted like clouds in the mirror, dreaming once more, its opalescent eyes lidded.
“She must have been very wise and gracious to inspire such loyalty,” Snow Tiger commented. “This foreign queen you served.”
I laughed. “No. No, she was capricious, vain, and fickle. But she could be kind and generous, too. And when she was in a sweet temper, it was as though the sun shone and all the birds in the sky sang at once.”
“I see.”
There were thoughts and memories unfurling in her mind, doubts and questions. Musings on what might have been had she been raised differently, had her own mother survived. But she did not voice them, and I held my tongue and kept my knowledge to myself, breathing quietly while the dragon drifted and dreamed.
In a little while, Snow Tiger dismissed me.
At least this time, I did not think she was glad to be rid of me.
SIXTY-FOUR
Lord Jiang refused.
“He claims it is a trick.” The Emperor paced in his council chamber, as restless as his daughter in anger. Dozens of councilors huddled on their knees, their heads bowed. I knelt behind Master Lo, keeping my eyes lowered. “A trick! As though I would resort to such subterfuge.” He fetched up before my mentor. “Can you prove it otherwise, old friend?”
“Not beyond a shadow of doubt, Celestial Majesty.” Master Lo’s voice was heavy. “The way the incense smoke coiled around the Noble Princess indicates the dragon’s presence. But I cannot prove its existence.”
Bao nudged me.
“I can try, Master,” I offered. “Your teaching has made me stronger. I can summon the twilight and show them the dragon in the mirror.”
“Smoke and mirrors.” Emperor Zhu waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. They will not believe it. Especially not when foreign sorcery is involved.”
Master Lo inclined his head. “Then we must find a way to convey the Noble Princess to White Jade Mountain ourselves.”
The Emperor stiffened. “And provoke a civil war?”
“It is coming whether you provoke it or not, old friend,” Master Lo Feng said softly. “Forgive me, but my son has ensured that it is so, and I believe he has done so with Jiang Quan’s knowledge and consent. If you hesitate, you lose what advantage is left to you.”
“No.” Emperor Zhu shook his head. Beads of gemstones dangling from his flat yellow crown swung and rattled. There were harsh lines of sorrow and grief etched in his face. “No, no, no. I will not do this thing. I will not plunge the Celestial Empire into war.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and swelling. “If I have lost the Mandate of Heaven, if I must surrender the throne, I will.”
No!
“Peace,” I whispered to the distant dragon.
It settled reluctantly.
“And the Noble Princess?” Master Lo murmured.
The Emperor looked away. “I grieve, old friend. I have grieved from the moment it happened. But I do not have the right to further offend Heaven on my daughter’s behalf.” He spared a glance in my direction. “Your jade-eyed witch soothes the dragon. Let her continue to do so.”
I waited for someone else to implore the Emperor to take action, to convince him that he had not lost the Mandate of Heaven.
No one spoke.
They had not heard the dragon’s thoughts, they had not seen its endless pearl-bright coils reflected in the mirror. Only Master Lo Feng’s foreign witch and the possessed princess claimed to have done so. But they had seen the nuptial bedchamber drenched in blood, the dismembered corpse of Lord Jiang’s son—or if they’d not seen it with their own eyes, they’d heard it described in horror a thousand times over.
Not a man among them would challenge the Emp
eror.
The decision was made.
Once dismissed, we backed out of the Imperial presence and returned to our quarters in silence. I thought of my promise to Snow Tiger and wondered how in the name of all the gods to broach the topic.
Bao did it for me. “So.” He fetched a jar of rice wine from our humble kitchen and brought it into the courtyard. Master Lo glanced at him in surprise. “There is a time to drink strong spirits, Master,” he said, pouring three cups. “This is one of them. Now, how are we going to save the princess and the dragon?”
I choked on the sip I was taking.
“You had other plans?” Bao turned his dark, ironic gaze on me. I shook my head. “No, I didn’t think so.”
“I promised to aid her if it came to this,” I admitted.
“She would defy her own father?” Master Lo sounded appalled.
“It’s not just her, Master,” Bao observed. “There is the dragon, too. It is a celestial being, an immortal. It cannot stay a prisoner inside her. That is against all nature.” He cocked his head. “Why did you give the pearl to Black Sleeve, anyway?”
Master Lo Feng picked up his cup, turning it around and around in his elegant, long-fingered hands. “He was called Yaozu then,” he said softly. “That was the name his mother and I gave him when he came of age. When he was a babe, she called him Tadpole. The dragon’s pearl was his favorite toy.” In one swift gesture, he downed the rice wine in his cup.
Bao refilled his cup without a word.
Master Lo coughed, eyes watering. “I believe you are right about the time for strong spirits, my magpie.” He took another drink. “Yaozu blames me for his mother’s death. We parted bitterly. I gave him the pearl in the hope that it would remind him of happier times.”
“How…” I hesitated. “How did she die, Master?”
“She died of old age,” he said simply. “Peacefully, in her sleep. My Mingzhu never had the patience to practice the Five Styles of Breathing. She was like a hummingbird, restless and bright.” He smiled with sorrow. “Unalike as we were, I loved her very much. Yaozu believed I failed her when I turned away from alchemy and the quest for the elixir of immortality. He begged me to return to it. When I refused, he begged me to teach him. I refused.” He drained what was left in his cup. “He never accepted it. Now at last it seems he has found a way to punish me for it, and to punish the world along with me.”
Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 01] - Naamah's Kiss Page 49
