Soundless

by Richelle Mead

  I swallow, mesmerized by how close his lips are to mine. Yes, I say. And because . . .

  He leans toward me, knowing I’m out of excuses. Because?

  My heart thunders in my chest as I close my eyes and lift my face toward his. I feel drunk, not from wine but from being with him in this way. I realize it’s not even about the setting or the clothes or the food. What marks this moment is that for the first time in our acquaintance, there really is no rank here. No artist, no miner. It’s just us.

  And Xiu Mei. The sound of the door and her entry into the room end the spell, and I jerk back with a start. Li Wei backs away too, and I know we must look guilty. If she noticed anything between us, she doesn’t comment on it.

  How was dinner? she asks.

  Incredible, I say honestly, still a little dazed. We’ve never had anything like it.

  It was an exquisite experience, Li Wei adds.

  I’m glad to hear it, Xiu Mei says. And I’m done with my work, so I can take you to Nuan now.

  Li Wei and I exchange brief glances, both of us understanding the same thing. We must wake up from this dream. The interlude is over. It’s time to get back to the business of helping our village.

  Your dress is lovely, Xiu Mei tells me. But you’ll probably want to change.

  True, I say, wistfully touching the red silk. I wouldn’t want to get it dirty.

  It’s less about that than where we’re going. Xiu Mei’s face darkens. Believe me, it isn’t a part of town where you’ll want to stand out. In fact, it’s not a place anyone really wants to go.

  CHAPTER 12

  PUZZLED BY HER OMINOUS WORDS, I don my artist’s clothes again and help Li Wei gather up our few belongings. Remember, don’t sign or draw attention to yourselves out in public, Xiu Mei warns.

  Downstairs, the inn’s master is in the common room, but he pays little attention to us. He is speaking to some patron, his chest puffed with pride as he gestures to the art collection on the wall.

  Lu Zhu gives us a wink and a friendly smile as we pass by her. Xiu Mei’s father simply nods, and something tells me he is glad to see us go. He might not agree with the king’s decree, but he fears for his daughter’s safety in speaking with us. Thinking of Zhang Jing, I can respect his protectiveness. I bow by way of thanks as we pass him.

  Outside, the sun has sunk in the western sky, though the air is still warm and pleasant. Xiu Mei covers herself up again and leads us back through the twisting streets of the township. I might not be overly familiar with cities and towns, but it soon becomes obvious to me that she is taking us to a less than desirable place. The market we were in earlier didn’t smell great, but the odor is much worse here, making me frequently want to cover my nose. The streets are dirtier too, and the buildings no longer have much in the way of decoration. Soon we don’t see any real buildings at all. We’ve come upon a cluster of tents and a handful of dilapidated shacks. The people moving around this area don’t wear the colors or fabrics we observed in the marketplace, and they are all thin, just like us.

  They’re also all signing.

  Flashes of signed conversation that I observe appear to be the same type of language Xiu Mei uses. I think about the stories of how the language my village uses came from one used by our migratory ancestors. Xiu Mei’s guess, that our two peoples changed the language over time, makes sense. We’ve each added and dropped words until parts are unrecognizable.

  Some of those milling among the tents recognize us as outsiders and stop to stare. Xiu Mei leads us to a threadbare tent, and we must duck to enter its low door. There, inside, an old woman sits cross-legged. Lines and wrinkles mark her face, and she is dressed in rags. Back at the inn, I felt poorly dressed, but here, my artist’s uniform, even with the splattered mud, appears luxurious. Xiu Mei bows and tells the woman, These are the ones I told you about. To us, she says, I must get back. I’m glad we met and hope you find what you’re looking for. Thank you for your help.

  Li Wei and I bow. Thank you for yours, I say. When she is gone, I bow to the old woman. Thank you for speaking with us.

  She indicates that we should join her on the floor, and we do. My name is Nuan, she tells us. Who are you? Where are you from?

  We give her our names, and when I tell her we come from the mountain, she looks puzzled. I remember that this word was different for Xiu Mei too, and I wish we’d brought our paper and ink. Li Wei rummages through his sack and finds the stick I used to draw a game board. He draws the character for mountain, and she nods in understanding.

  We use a different sign, she explains. She shows us how her people sign mountain. It’s different from ours, but I can see how both signs had a common origin. You can’t be from the mountain, she adds. I know everyone who came with us from the . . .

  I don’t know the words she uses, and we must again pause to draw it out: plateau. Realization and shock hit me.

  You’re from the plateau! I say. From the dead village! You’re one of the ones who escaped!

  She watches my hands avidly, and I can tell she’s having the same issues I have, not always immediately grasping some words. She’s less able to follow along than Xiu Mei, but she understands enough to get what I’m saying and nods. Yes. But you aren’t from there.

  We are from the top of the mountain, Li Wei explains.

  Nuan looks so confused that for a moment I think she must not have understood his words. At last, she says, There are people at the top?

  Our village, I say. We are miners, just like your village is. Was.

  There is another mine? she asks, but she doesn’t wait for me to answer. Yes, of course. She pauses, gazing into space a few moments as she lets this new understanding settle in. That’s where the new metals are coming from. We’ve wondered for a long time how the supply lines were still running long after our village was shut down. Are you all like us? Deaf?

  Yes, I say. And some people are going blind too. I draw the character for blind to make sure she understands, but she has already guessed. Looking saddened, she launches into a story, pausing when necessary to draw out words we don’t know.

  It happened to us too. It’s the metals. There’s a contaminant that makes mining dangerous there. It gets into the air, in the water. Once removed from the earth, melting and other manipulation purifies the metal. But if you live and work around it? It’s deadly. It deprives us of our senses. Hearing is the first sense lost. Then, over many generations, blindness follows. It would not be worth the risk, except that the mountain is rich in precious metals—far richer than any other known source in the kingdom. And this king is even more ruthless about getting those riches out.

  King Jianjun? I clarify.

  Yes, she says. He and his predecessors have trapped people on the mountain for generations, forcing them to mine for their survival, masking it as kindness by sending up barely enough food to survive. And all the while, those closest to the metals suffer greatly.

  Understanding hits me like a slap to the face. The shock is so strong, it’s a wonder I don’t go reeling. Zhang Jing, I say. Nuan looks confused, and I clarify. My sister. She isn’t a miner, but she has been losing her sight. But now it makes sense: Her observation post is in the mine. She is exposed to all the same toxins—just like you, I add, glancing at Li Wei.

  I’ve worked in there for years and still have my sight, he tells Nuan.

  She shrugs. It affects people differently. Some can fight it longer. And the direst effects take generations to build up. But it will only be a matter of time now. That’s how it was with our people. Once the first cases of blindness came, the ailment ran rampant within a year.

  Li Wei and I look at each other again, both thinking about how the blindness in our village first became noticeable a few months ago. We need to get them out of there, I say. If you and I climbed down, so can the others. It will take time, but it will be worth it if it saves th
em.

  Perhaps . . . but I think we’ll have a hard time convincing them, Li Wei says grimly. You’ve seen how they are. They resist change. And that’s if they even believe us!

  We must make them believe, I say adamantly, thinking of Zhang Jing and Master Chen. Lives depend on it. We must get them out.

  He shakes his head. Fei, it was hard enough getting the two of us down! How will you move three hundred? Especially with children and the elderly?

  How can you talk like this? I demand. When we started this quest, you spoke about helping our whole village! You acted as though we could do the impossible. Do you only talk about courage when the task is easy?

  A spark of anger flashes in his eyes. You know I’m up for difficult tasks—but that doesn’t mean I’m foolish either. Assuming we can miraculously get all those people down the mountain, where will they go? To tents like this? What kind of livelihood can they possibly have beyond the mines?

  There must be other places to go in Beiguo, I insist. You saw all the travelers at the inn.

  Nuan watches our conversation thoughtfully, carefully keeping out of our dispute. Is your mine still active? It’s not empty?

  I look to Li Wei for confirmation, and he responds, Believe me, if we were running out, there’d be a panic.

  Nuan sighs, and I’m fascinated at how a simple exhalation of breath can convey such sadness. It would be better for you if it were empty, she says unexpectedly. If you truly want your village to escape and find a new life. Once, in our history, a number of villagers attempted it, and the king’s men stopped them. They needed slaves to keep working our mine. It was only a year and a half ago, when the mine went empty just as the blindness came, that they didn’t bother stopping us anymore. There was no need. They had what they wanted from us and didn’t care where we went. So here we are. She lifts her hands, indicating the threadbare tent. Gone from one prison to another. Here we live in this squalor, second-class citizens who are scorned by the others. Sometimes we get work. Sometimes we simply live on scraps.

  Li Wei looks at me expectantly as Nuan’s words confirm how difficult it will be to find a new existence for our people. I ignore him as I answer back. But there is food here. At least it’s available. And you’re away from the toxins in the metals. It would still be a better life for our people.

  Nuan shakes her head. I’m telling you, they won’t let you go. They need your village to keep working the mine. The king covets those metals too much. It keeps him rich and in power.

  But if our village goes blind, no one will be able to mine anything! I protest.

  They don’t care, says Nuan. My villagers’ lives, yours . . . they are nothing compared to riches in the eyes of those more powerful than us.

  We sit there and let those words sink in. Finally I turn to Li Wei. We must take this news back to our village. We must let them decide and weigh the options.

  I can tell from his expression that he wants to protest, to tell me again that the task is impossible. But as he gazes into my eyes, he finally gives a reluctant nod. I will help you take this news back to the elders, he says. Perhaps they will have an idea we haven’t thought of. I can tell he doubts it.

  Be careful, says Nuan. If any official realizes you’re here, they aren’t going to like it. They won’t want your village knowing the truth.

  Someone does know we’re here, I reply. The line keeper. And Xiu Mei thought she saw soldiers looking for us as well.

  We tell Nuan about our initial encounter, how the man told us to wait but how we ended up sneaking away. When we finish, Nuan remarks, All of them are appointed by the regime. He probably ran straight to the king’s men. You were right to leave.

  All of them? I ask, thinking I misunderstood. What do you mean?

  The men who run the line, she explains. There are a number who rotate through that job.

  Li Wei and I are dumbfounded, and he says, We always thought there was one person in charge there, one person making decisions and sending notes.

  Nuan laughs, a thin sound that feels dry. No, they don’t make decisions. Whoever was sending you messages was someone much more powerful.

  I think back to the nervous man and suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to learn this.

  They will all know you’re in the township by now, Nuan continues. The gate will be watched. There is a secret entrance out of the walls, not far from this encampment, that I can show you. If you stick to the trees and keep your wits about you, you should be able to make it back to your people undetected.

  Li Wei and I both stand to bow to her. Maybe we are far from home, but we aren’t bereft of our manners. Thank you, I tell her with as much reverence as I would one of our elders. You may have saved our lives and those of our people. Please allow us to give you a gift.

  I look to Li Wei, who understands immediately. Perhaps Nuan’s situation isn’t as dire as our village’s, but it’s clear from her gaunt appearance that food is a luxury for her as well. Our packs are full of the food we took from the line keeper’s crate, and Li Wei digs into his bag, producing some fruit, dried meat, and a bun. Nuan’s wide eyes show us that this is a bounty for her, and I feel gladdened but also sad. Clearly, for the right people around here, there is plenty of food to be had. It infuriates me that her people and my own are so deprived.

  As Li Wei cinches his pack back together, one of the xiangqi pieces falls out, a general. It rolls near Nuan, and she picks it up, studying the detail.

  This is fine work, she says as she hands it back. I’ve seen far less detailed game sets fetching a nice price at the market. This kind of skill would be prized anywhere in Beiguo.

  Li Wei made it, I say with pride.

  It is nothing, he says, embarrassed. Fei is the real artist.

  He busies himself with his pack, pretending it needs more rearranging than it does. Nuan watches him with a smile and then says to me, when he’s not looking: He’s very handsome. He’s your betrothed?

  Now I’m the one who’s embarrassed. I feel heat flood my cheeks. No! We are just . . . friends.

  There is a knowing look in Nuan’s eyes. If you want to save yourselves a lot of trouble, you could leave now. Forget trying to warn your village—the officials will stop you from getting back, you know. And they’ll certainly stop your whole village from leaving the mountain. But just the two of you? Well, there are other cities, other places in Beiguo. The boy clearly has skill, and you say you are trained as well. You can find work, real work. Go off together and leave this cursed place.

  What she has suggested is so shocking, so unbelievable, that I’m momentarily frozen. Then new sounds make me jerk my head around. One thing I can say, at least, for this dirty collection of tents is that it is quieter than the rest of the township, since none of the residents use their voices. But now that quiet is interrupted as I recognize the sounds of many loud voices as well as a new noise I just learned: the sound of horses’ hooves on the road.

  Someone is coming. Men and horses, I say.

  We hurry to peek out the entrance of the tent, where I heard the noise. There, on the far side of where we entered the deaf settlement, riders on horseback are approaching. I am just barely tall enough to make them out and see that they wear red-and-yellow armor.

  Those are the king’s men! Nuan says. They know you’re here. Someone probably reported you when you came to see me—they are my people, but they are desperate. You must go. Quickly. Over there, by that gray building? Go there, turn left, and then go straight until you reach the wall. Make another left and follow it until you see the opening.

  Thank you. I bow to her again and start to leave, but she catches my sleeve.

  You heard them coming? she asks. You can hear?

  Only as of a few days ago, I say. I don’t know why or how.

  The next sign she makes is incomprehensible to me, something involving wings.

>   What? I ask.

  She makes it again, but I still can’t understand. The sign isn’t one from our language. Li Wei starts to reach for the stick we used to draw characters, but the sound of men and horses is getting closer. I shake my head and tell him, No time. We must go.

  Nuan looks distraught, like she has more to tell us, but I can only shake my head at her and offer hurried thanks. Without a glance back at her, Li Wei and I dash off through the tents, heading toward the building Nuan indicated. The sound of men and horses is getting closer, but they aren’t able to see us as well as we can see them, giving us a head start. Her directions are easy enough to follow, and we soon find the gap she means. There’s a part in the wall where it joins to a watchtower. The two are made of different kinds of wood, and with time and weather, the seam has warped and split. A small space has been created, one that looks man-made, just big enough for one person to get through. It is an easy fit for me but takes some maneuvering for Li Wei, and he tears his shirt in the process.

  Once we are both out, I hear shouts from above and look up. We may have escaped the guards in Nuan’s camp, but the ones on this watchtower have seen us. Our only saving grace is that it will take them time to get down and out. That buys us faint, precious time, and we cannot linger, especially when a few arrows come shooting down after us.

  Without another backward glance, Li Wei and I run for our lives into the woods.

  CHAPTER 13

  ONCE, WHEN I WAS A CHILD, some older kids in our village got it into their heads to steal lunches from the younger children. It only lasted a few days before some adults got wind of the bullies and put an end to it. But one of those days, I bravely sneaked into the part of the woods where the thieves were lording over their hoard, snatched a bunch of the lunches back, and took off running. It was one of the most terrifying chases of my life. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. I didn’t have a chance to think about where I was going; I only knew I had to get away, to run as far and as fast as I could.