Silver Phoenix (30 page)

Cindy Pon

anxiety. Chen Yong and Li Rong took the jasper seats that fl anked her.

“You called us here . . . Lady?” Ai Ling did not know how to address her.

“I am the Goddess of Records, but you may call me Lady.”

Only then did Ai Ling realize that all six lips moved, each mouth speaking the words in unison. The combined voices were dreamy and soft, soothing. The Goddess placed the objects she was holding on her desk and clasped elegant hands in her lap.

“That jade piece”—the Goddess lifted one slender finger toward her necklace—“was a gift from me to you. Your father gave it to you before he left on his journey, as he was told to do. It was given to him by one of the Gods, disguised as a wise monk. Your father, being wise himself, took his advice to heart.”

Ai Ling looked down at her pendant and saw that it was aglow, bathing her skin in a calming warmth. She clasped it in one hand, remembering the last time she had spoken with Father in private, by the plum tree in their front courtyard.

“Why is ‘spirit’ carved onto it, Lady?” she asked.

“The pendant carries a protective spirit. We feared you would be the target of strong enemies. Evil enemies.” The movement of the Goddess’ mouths became hypnotic. Ai Ling glanced at her companions; they were looking at the Lady with rapt expressions, as if unable to turn away.

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“Protective spirit,” Ai Ling repeated.

The Goddess nodded. “A powerful spirit to help guard you. You were chosen for this task before you were born.

It seems you have also reincarnated with strong powers of your own—neither planned nor foreseen. The fates work in strange ways, indeed. These abilities will help you to kill Zhong Ye, who holds your father captive at the Palace.”

Kill? Who was Zhong Ye? It couldn’t be real. Her hand trembled on the jade pendant, and its light emanated through her fingers. The warmth washed over her again, and she felt calmer.

“Is my father all right?” Ai Ling asked.

“Yes. For now. Zhong Ye uses your father to lure you to him.” The Goddess’ mouths murmured, as if in condolence.

“I don’t understand.”

“Zhong Ye has played the guise of counselor to numerous emperors for over three centuries. As a mortal, he was intelligent and cunning; now, in his unnatural state of life, he is even more so. He fell in love with you in your last incarnation. But his plans to wed you were thwarted. Zhong Ye wants you still.”

Her world reeled in dizzying circles. This man wanted her . . . loved her in a past life? Ai Ling felt queasy and lightheaded, sickened by the thought that Father was a prisoner because of her—revolted that Zhong Ye desired her for a bride.

She sensed both brothers turn to her, but she could not 165

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look at them. Li Rong reached for her hand and squeezed her damp palm, bringing the sting of tears to her nostrils.

Ai Ling sought Chen Yong’s eyes as Li Rong withdrew his hand. His high brow was knitted in concern.

Ai Ling swallowed the knot in her throat. “How do I do this, Lady? Kill Zhong Ye?”

The Goddess stood and surprised Ai Ling with her height.

She was taller than any person she’d ever seen, at least three hands taller than Chen Yong. The Goddess strode with regal steps toward her and revealed a crystal vial in one hand. “Take this. You must visit the Lady in White, and she will fill this vial for you. Its contents will aid you in casting Zhong Ye to the underworld.”

Ai Ling took the vial. It was barely the length of her smallest finger and near the same width in diameter. The glass was elaborately carved with characters she did not recognize.

“If Zhong Ye wishes to have me, if you wish me to kill him, why have there been so many obstacles on my journey to the Palace?”

The Goddess smiled.

“You are perceptive. Zhong Ye does not wish harm upon you; he believes he loves you. It is the work of his current bride, who realizes her days ruling by his side are numbered if you do appear. After many centuries, she knows you have reincarnated, that you are on your way. She wants you dead.”

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Ai Ling felt the hairs on her neck rise. Finally things were falling into place, even if they were too incredible to believe.

Who had she been in her last life? And why had she been chosen for such a horrific task? Ai Ling wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted to be back home; back in a time when her world was ordinary.

“She is powerful and cunning, a dangerous foe,” the Goddess continued. “But it is Zhong Ye you need to be most leery of. He has managed to stay alive by devouring others’ spirits, keeping them bound to him, so they are unable to truly die and reincarnate. Hundreds of spirits have been sundered from the Life Cycle.”

The Goddess returned to her seat and sat down, her delicate eyebrows drawn together. “As the Goddess of Records, it is my duty to enter names in
The Book of Life
in crimson and in
The Book of Death
in black. Too many births have been recorded without souls to fill their human form—the babes are born without spirit.” The Goddess raised her elegant heads, and her anger swept across Ai Ling like a lash of cold rain.

“Zhong Ye is playing god, when he is no god,” the Goddess said.

Hundreds of spirits held captive, unable to become reborn and fulfill their destiny. Ai Ling thought about the older brother she never had, the one who was born still. Had Zhong Ye killed him? Stolen his spirit so he could not live?

She gripped the jade armrests with tight hands. Was he the 167

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cause of her parents’ grief—and so many others’?

Li Rong cleared his throat. “Couldn’t you kill Zhong Ye yourself, Lady? Fling a lightning bolt at him? Turn him into a water buffalo?”

The Immortal shifted, her three faces turned to him. Li Rong tucked his chin, like a tortoise shrinking within himself—only he had no shell to hide in. Ai Ling would have smiled, but he asked a very good question.

“I cannot. I am bound by heavenly laws and duties. The Immortals do not often meddle in human lives.” The Goddess turned now and regarded her. “I aid you for very selfish reasons, Ai Ling. You face a great nemesis in Zhong Ye.

There is no telling what will happen if he continues to live through the consumption of others’ spirits.”

The Goddess rose. She raised one ivory arm, her stance reminding Ai Ling of the statues of Immortals hewn from white jade. “Roam the garden. Explore. You will find food and a place to rest.” With that dismissal, her image shimmered and then faded completely.

After a long silence, Li Rong spoke first. “I’ve been a fool in my refusal to believe in the gods.” He jumped from his chair and banged his head on the fl oor three times.

“You disbelieved? What did you think happened when we die?” Ai Ling asked, incredulous.

“I assumed there was nothing after death,” Li Rong said, and then struck his brow against the luminous jade floor three more times.

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“You’ve got your head too full flirting with pretty ladies to think about the mystic and otherworldly, little brother,”

Chen Yong said.

Li Rong stood, but not before bowing once to the goddess’

empty chair. “There may be truth in that. Do you mean to say you believed in all the worship, the offerings, the incense burning?”

“I accepted it as our obligation, and I never questioned its truth. And I’ll never have to question it, after this day.”

“You were always the most traditional, Chen Yong, for being only half Xian.”

Chen Yong rose from his jasper chair, but not before Ai Ling saw him wince. He turned from them, the brief hurt she’d glimpsed already masked. “We should look around the gardens,” he said. “Not many mortals can say they had such an opportunity.”

Ai Ling and Li Rong rose. The elaborately carved chairs shimmered and disappeared, just as the Goddess had. They walked down the gleaming jade steps of the pagoda and took the path that meandered beyond it, adjacent to a winding river rushing over smooth red pebbles.

“This must be the Scarlet River, which is supposed to run through the Golden Palace,” Ai Ling said.

The path opened into a secluded garden. Chrysanthemums bloomed in orange and red, their faces turned to the sun; rare orchids bowed gracefully in their carved ivory pots.

Ai Ling breathed in the scent of jasmine and sunshine.

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