Silver Phoenix (24 page)

S I LV E R P H O E N I X

Chen Yong put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, lady, that you suffered through this, and that your attendants lost their lives. Can we escort you to the next town at least?”

She stood, looking ashen still. “I am Lady Zhou. I was headed to the city of Dai Ting to visit family.”

“We were also stopping there. We should reach it tomorrow by foot. If you don’t mind walking,” Chen Yong said.

And would they tote her in the sedan like her attendants if she did mind? Ai Ling tried to suppress her irritation and jealousy. Must Chen Yong be so chivalrous? She was annoyed with everyone, but most especially herself.

Li Rong stepped forward in greeting, one palm pressed to his heart. “I am Li Rong, at your call, lovely lady.”

Ai Ling contained her snort but could not stop her eyes from rolling.

Chen Yong looked embarrassed and introduced himself, and she followed suit.

“I would be so grateful to have you as escorts. A woman can’t travel alone safely these days.” Her gaze lingered on Ai Ling with that statement. Ai Ling raised her chin and looked down at her, drawing her shoulders back so she stood even taller.

Li Rong and Chen Yong righted the overturned sedan so Lady Zhou could retrieve her belongings. She pulled out a pink satin purse.

The brothers moved the bodies to the side of the road.

127

Cindy Pon

“We’ll tell officials when we arrive in Dai Ting,” Chen Yong said, “so they can retrieve the bodies for their families.”

They bowed their heads, and Chen Yong led them in a short prayer. They decided to continue on, to reach the town as soon as possible.

“You’ve had such a shock, Lady Zhou. I’m sure Ai Ling wouldn’t mind if I offered you my horse,” Li Rong said.

Dung of a diseased turtle! Ai Ling tried to smooth the scowl off her face. She nodded imperceptibly and handed the reins to Li Rong.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Lady Zhou breathed, still a little winded from her ordeal.

Li Rong offered an arm to help her onto Feng. But she had some trouble, falling into a close embrace with him on the first try. She blushed deeply, which made her prettier somehow. Ai Ling never felt pretty when she blushed. She always imagined her head turning into a bulbous red radish—the kind Taro liked to dig up and chew.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never been on a horse,” Lady Zhou said.

Neither had she, but she didn’t fall into anyone’s arms trying to mount the beast. Ai Ling chided herself for these thoughts. How could she be so petty and mean?

But Feng did not appear to like Lady Zhou. The horse nickered and pranced, making it difficult for the woman to sit comfortably. Li Rong tried to placate him, to no avail.

Feng’s nostrils flared, and he continued his jittery dance, tossing his head.

128

S I LV E R P H O E N I X

“I’m distressed and making the horse nervous,” Lady Zhou said. “Perhaps it’s better if I walked, as long as you offered an arm?” Li Rong was back by her side before a cock could crow.

Ai Ling approached Feng with one hand outstretched and stroked his velvet neck just as he liked. The horse became calm and still, allowing her to climb onto his back. A part of her felt a smug satisfaction. At least Feng wasn’t swayed by any pretty thing that sauntered by.

They walked until the sun faded behind the mountains.

Li Rong strolled beside Lady Zhou, regaling her with funny anecdotes and silly jests. Her laughter tinkled through the warm air. Ai Ling pursed her lips. She and Chen Yong followed behind the merry couple, Chen Yong leading the horse by the reins.

They made camp that night against the hillside. Ai Ling’s thighs and rear were sore from riding, but she was grateful she hadn’t had to walk the entire way. She shared a sparse meal with the brothers. Lady Zhou had no appetite. She prepared for sleep. Chen Yong had already retired, while Lady Zhou and Li Rong sat near the fire, their amused faces lit by the flames. Each strand of Lady Zhou’s ebony hair stayed in place. Ai Ling touched her own hair, most of which had escaped from her one braid, making a sweaty halo around her head.

They whispered, and Ai Ling was glad for it. She did not want to hear Li Rong’s flattering blather. She wasn’t 129

Cindy Pon

jealous . . . but perhaps she had become used to being the only female in their little group. She admonished herself for acting so foolish. She was not interested in Li Rong, much as he teased and fl irted with her.

Her mind wandered. She could see Chen Yong from where she lay. She still hadn’t given him the letters. She didn’t want to, in the presence of others. Especially Lady Zhou. She wanted to share the moment alone with Chen Yong. It was terribly selfi sh, she knew.

Ai Ling shifted on the hard ground, tucking her thin blanket beneath her chin. The fact that Chen Yong slept while Li Rong and Lady Zhou flirted by the fire made her feel even more alone. She thought about the first time she had entered his spirit. Could she do it again?

She flung herself forward, felt the tautness within her navel, extended her spirit and snapped into his being. His body was completely relaxed. He drew deep breaths, and he dreamed. She stayed with him, unable to pull herself back, wanting this closeness. She dreamed with him.

They sat in a beautiful pagoda set in a lush garden. The flowers bloomed in bright yellows and reds, without scent.

The girl beside him laughed, peered up with adoration. She reached over to caress his cheek.

“I miss you, Chen Yong. I had no choice, please forgive me.”

The girl could not have been more than thirteen years, but she spoke as a grown woman, with a regretful sadness. Ai Ling felt her heart, his heart, crush with an empty 130

S I LV E R P H O E N I X

ache and longing, with such anguish it was difficult to breathe. . . .

The scene wavered, dispersed. He sat in the study grind-ing ink. A sheet of neatly written characters lay on the desk. I am going home, read the flowing strokes. Someone entered the study and looked over his shoulder, but he did not turn to see who. It no longer mattered.

He practiced forms in a wide courtyard. He whirled in the wind as if he had wings, his spirit soaring, free. He leaped in the air and was surrounded by galloping waves, on a sea that was unfamiliar to him, the waters a churning black. He landed on the deck of a ship, looking out to the endless horizon. The sun crept upward, bleeding crimson. . . .

“Help!”

Feng’s agitated whinnying sounded almost like human screams.

Ai Ling bolted straight up and gasped as she snapped back within herself. She felt winded, unable to catch a full breath, and rose unsteadily to her feet. Chen Yong was already standing, his sword raised. The fire flickered low but cast enough light to reveal Li Rong struggling with a massive writhing thing just beyond it.

Chen Yong sprang toward his brother. The monstrous serpent raised its head and hissed. A long forked tongue darted out. Its scales were a stunning bloodred, the muscles beneath them moving in powerful undulation as it wrapped itself around Li Rong.

131

Cindy Pon

“Sssstand back or your foolissssh brother diessssss.” The serpent turned its head, and she saw Lady Zhou’s face, except her wide eyes were now vertical slits, glowing like golden lantern light. The face merged with the strong neck of the serpent, the pale skin of human flesh melding with the crimson scales.

Li Rong continued to struggle.

“You liked me well enough when we shared kissssssesss.” It flicked its tongue toward Li Rong, who jerked his face away in terror.

Chen Yong’s legs were in a wide stance, his sword high.

Ai Ling knew he would not attack while the serpent gripped Li Rong. Murmuring a prayer, she unsheathed her dagger, crouched and edged out of the circle of light cast by the dying fire. She steadied her trembling hands. Li Rong needed her help. She clung to this thought. She sneaked around the serpent demon’s massive coils and twitching tail; Chen Yong saw her, she knew, but she dared not meet his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Ai Ling vaulted through the air and plunged her dagger into the back of the serpent’s head.

The sharp blade sank in to the hilt, and there was a sizzling sound, reminding her of meats spitting above hot coals at the market. She tried to pull out the dagger to strike again but could not budge its glowing hilt, burning cold within her hand. The demon shrieked and slammed its tail on the ground. The pungent smell of burning flesh hit Ai Ling’s nostrils; her stomach seized.

132