Silver Phoenix (37 page)

They splashed each other and laughed. They chattered in a language that Ai Ling almost knew, the words tugging at her from some distant memory that did not seem her own.

One woman was tall and sleek, her hair a dark auburn.

Her features were not entirely Xian, with wide-set round eyes and a high nose. Her lips were dainty, the color of 207

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pink lotus; dappled sunshine glanced off the milky skin of her small breasts. Her companion’s skin tone was like wet sand, darker than any person Ai Ling had ever seen. Her eyes were wide, tilting upward; the mouth sensuous, full.

Her breasts were ample and rested on her swollen, pregnant belly like ripe fruit.

Ai Ling’s ears grew hot. She could not believe she was spying on these women with Chen Yong by her side.

The darker-skinned woman swept back raven hair with one hand, the waves falling well past her shoulders. Ai Ling could not fathom how the two could reveal themselves with their hair unbound. Were they sisters? The tall woman brushed her tresses with an ivory comb; they giggled and chattered. Something about stone and sleep . . . or dreams?

Ai Ling pulled Chen Yong back with a hard tug. “What should we do?” she whispered. “We can’t spy on them like this. They’re naked!” The moment she said it, she regretted being so obvious. She almost stomped her foot in embarrassment.

Chen Yong grinned, his face boyish again, the tautness in his features softening. “It’s now that I miss my little brother the most. Li Rong would love this.”

Ai Ling’s mouth tilted upward, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. Then her nose stung with the onrush of tears. She reached out to grasp Chen Yong’s arm, reacting to the gleam of sorrow in his eyes, even as the smile lingered on the corners of his mouth.

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He nodded, whether in acknowledgment of her comfort or to say he was fi ne, she didn’t know, and she dropped her hand.

The two women in the pond began singing.

“Perhaps they can help guide us back to our world,” she whispered.

“I can’t understand a word they’re saying. And I have the feeling they’ll be frightened by the sight of me,” Chen Yong said.

“Maybe if I approached them fi rst.”

“We won’t be able to follow that path past them without being seen, besides,” he said.

She stepped from their hiding place. The women did not notice her, so she proceeded with deliberate steps toward the small pond, taking care along its muddy banks. The pregnant woman saw her first, and gasped. Her friend stopped singing at the same time.

Neither woman attempted to cover her nakedness, but instead they stared at Ai Ling with their mouths agape.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. My friend and I are lost.

We need help.” Ai Ling spoke too loudly and wrung her hands.

The two women looked at each other, then back toward Ai Ling. They murmured between themselves, but Ai Ling caught at least one word: outsider. The pale woman pointed a slender hand toward the path. Go. Follow. Ai Ling could gather that much.

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She felt a little doubtful. “Is that the way back to the Kingdom of Xia?” Both women furrowed their brows. Finally the pregnant one pointed again with emphasis to the path. Ai Ling pursed her lips, unsure if they knew the way or just wanted to be rid of her.

“My friend is behind that pine tree.” Ai Ling pointed to the large tree with the wide, gnarled trunk. “He’s a man, so—” She did not get a chance to finish the sentence. Both women let out loud shrieks.

They scrambled up the far bank of the pond, speaking rapidly to each other. She caught the words man, hide, and far. They vanished into a thicket of trees before she could utter a reply.

She understood modesty, but had not expected them to run screaming into the trees.

“I guess you can come out now,” she called.

She turned and found Chen Yong standing on the path.

“They must have understood the word ‘man.’” He chuckled, surprising her. “You understood their speech?”

Ai Ling lifted her shoulders. “Some words—but I seemed to get the gist of their conversation anyway.”

“They spoke in women’s tongue,” Chen Yong said.

She joined him on the path. “What do you mean, women’s tongue?”

“When I saw them in the pond, it brought to mind a place I had read about in
The Book of Lands Beyond
.”

Ai Ling nodded.

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“There’s a passage about the Land of Women in the book.”

“You think we are in the Land of Women? But the darker-skinned one was with child,” she said.

“Yes, but—”

Chen Yong did not get a chance to continue before Ai Ling slapped her hands together. “But they become pregnant by bathing in the golden pond.”

He laughed. “Now you know why they ran off in such terror at the mention of a man.”

“If I had known . . . I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had realized.” She paused. “Other than not get into that pond.”

There was a breath before Chen Yong roared with laughter.

She laughed with him, her cheeks feeling hot, but she didn’t mind.

“And any male child never survived past three years. I remember that passage,” Chen Yong said.

“I cannot imagine a world without men. I envy the men in our society for their freedom at times. I often think that the rules favor your gender, yet it wouldn’t be the same without . . .” She trailed off, feeling foolish.

“The book also mentioned a Land of Men. Like you, I can’t imagine such a place.”

“No one would serve you tea or prepare your clothes each morning,” she teased.

“I know I’m very traditional in thought. But you have to 211

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believe that I value women for more than their roles within the inner quarters.” He struck the dirt path below them with his walking stick, then stopped and turned to her. “You’ve helped to open my eyes in many ways.”

She lifted her chin and smiled at him, somehow willing her face not to fl ush scarlet.

They stopped at a stream to refi ll their fl asks. They washed their hands and faces and sliced up the fruits the Lady in White had given them. Ai Ling nearly choked on the last bite of apple when she heard the trot of an animal approach.

Chen Yong jumped to his feet, his sword drawn.

A man emerged, riding a white horse with red stripes like licks of flame on its flanks. Its mane was red as well, the color of the skies at dusk. Its wide eyes glinted gold in the sunlight.

The man had only one arm. As he drew closer, what she thought was a mark in his wide brow emerged as a third vertical eye.

A two-headed bird, vermilion and gold, perched on his shoulder. The heads sang to each other in crisp, sweet tones.

The man pulled in the reins and stopped a short distance from them. She saw there was a bow strung across his back, and a scabbard rested against his hip. But he did not look anxious, and his hand did not move toward the sword hilt.

She wondered how he used a bow with just one arm.

“You are lost,” the man said. It was a statement, not a 212

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question. His accent was strong, but the words came through clearly.

Chen Yong stepped forward, not lowering his weapon.

“We’re from the Kingdom of Xia, trying to make our way back there,” he said.

“Xia.” The man pronounced their kingdom’s name differently, but it seemed he had heard of it. “You are Xian?” The voice was higher than what she was used to, his skin smooth like a young boy’s, the eyebrows thin and delicate.

“Can you guide us back?” she asked.

Chen Yong turned to her with a hard stare, a barely audible hiss escaping from his lips.

The man tilted his head. “To go back by foot is impossible,” he replied. “I have never encountered people of Xia.

I have only heard tales from elders. We may find answers in my city. If you follow?”

Ai Ling nodded even as Chen Yong drew her aside, his gaze never leaving the strange man. “How do we know he speaks the truth?” he asked in a low voice.

“He appears willing to help . . . is civil. It’s a risk we have to take,” she said. “We could wander for years and never reach home.”