by Resa Nelson
She spent the next several days watching every concubine in what she came to think of as the Welcoming Room, that first room she had encountered where she assumed the women did little more than lounge on floor pillows all day. But by observing them, Frayka realized they performed various rituals.
Each morning the concubines gathered in the Welcoming Room and set about making it beautiful for the day. Frayka learned to remove flowers from large vases, pour out the water and replenish each vase with fresh water, and remove every flower that no longer looked fresh. She followed a few women out to the vast gardens surrounding the Hall of Concubines to watch them select new flowers. Once Frayka mastered that task, she learned how to tend to the caged birds and sort tea leaves.
After each mid-day meal, the concubines retreated to their rooms for a change of clothing. Because Frayka had only one garment, she remained in the Welcoming Room and watched the women parade back to it in their best finery. They wore elegant robes in bright colors and embroidered with elaborate flowers and animals. Typically, the emperor arrived during the afternoon, selected one of the concubines, and departed to her room.
Frayka learned quickly, and soon the other women warmed up to her. When they led her to a massive marble tub full of warm water, she allowed them to undress and bathe her.
Like a dragon waiting for its prey, Frayka exhibited a meek manner when they dressed her. Once they handed a silk pouch to her, Frayka retreated to her room. Finding the pouch full of salt and herbs, Frayka took care to use them to draw a circle around her, determined to remain inside that circle until her prey came into sight.
* * *
After departing the Hall of Concubines, Madam Po and TeaTree returned to her home, where they shared a pot of tea.
“I will be traveling to the Gate of Air tomorrow,” Madam Po said. “You will remain here.”
TeaTree paled. “Madam, I beg you, no! How can you so quickly forget those dreadful people who attacked us?” He placed his cup on the table with firm resolution. “I cannot live with myself if you go there without me.”
Madam Po chuckled at the sudden thought of a delightful memory. “Do you remember when we first met?”
Confused, TeaTree said, “What does that have to do with the fact that you insist on taking a journey bound to be filled with peril without me by your side?”
“Humor me. Tell me the story of how we met.”
TeaTree sighed in defeat. “It was my first summer assisting another merchant. I came here when I was but a boy. I slipped on a patch of slick mud while carrying an armful of white silk. When I fell to the ground, the silk went flying and landed in the mud. It was ruined.” TeaTree paused, and his voice softened. “When my master began to beat me, you stopped him.”
“How?” Madam Po had a clear memory of the event, but she wanted to remind TeaTree that she had no problem taking care of herself.
TeaTree smiled. “You wrenched the cane my master used to beat me away from him. You used it to beat him until he begged for mercy and promised to never strike me again.” TeaTree turned the cup around, fiddling with it. “It’s the cane you still carry today.”
“I was much younger in those days. Do you doubt my abilities today?”
“No, Madam.” TeaTree looked into her eyes. “You seem a bit creaky every morning, but as soon as you move around a bit and do your exercises, I believe your abilities are just as fine today as they were when we met.”
“Then why do you think you must accompany me?”
“Those men! They’re vicious!”
Madam Po chuckled again. “Worry not. I will travel with the emperor’s guards to keep those people away from me.”
“The emperor’s guards? Why would he allow such a thing?”
Although Madam Po trusted TeaTree, she had told him only that she’d promised to perform a favor for the emperor in exchange for Frayka’s freedom. She had promised the emperor to keep her mission of retrieving a cup of water from the Fountain of Immortality a secret.
Because she knew nothing of his youngest daughter’s illness until Emperor Po mentioned it, Madam Po suspected he chose to keep the fact of that illness within the confines of the royal palace. Even if they were not blood kin, Madam Po made a habit of keeping secrets when asked.
“Why do you question the emperor’s wishes?” she asked.
TeaTree’s face sagged in confusion and surprise. His expression reminded Madam Po of the way he looked all those years ago when his master beat him.
She patted his hand. “The less you know, the safer you will be.”
Pressing his lips together with a determined look, TeaTree nodded his understanding.
“I need someone to remain in Zangcheen and keep an eye on Frayka,” Madam Po said. “Can you do that for me?”
TeaTree nodded again. “With your consent, I have an idea to help her escape. Just in case the emperor fails to keep his promise to release Frayka.”
Even better.
“Wait three days,” Madam Po said. “That will give me time to complete my journey and time for you to find out what you can about the whereabouts of Njall.”
When TeaTree smiled, he looked like a young boy again. “Done.”
* * *
The next morning, a dozen royal guards escorted Madam Po from the doorstep of her home to the edge of the city of Zangcheen. They travelled throughout the day until they arrived at the base of the fingerling mountain, home of the legendary Gate of Air.
The royal guards explained to the small community living at that mountain’s base that Madam Po arrived on official royal business and that anyone who tried to interfere would be executed on the spot by the emperor’s command.
Thereafter, the community ignored Madam Po and the royal guards as if they didn’t exist.
Half of the guards patrolled the base of the mountain while the others escorted Madam Po along the path that cut through the gardens growing on its sides. Madam Po leaned on her cane, convinced that if people assumed her to be feeble that she would gain the advantage of surprise should she ever have to fight them.
The path consisted of slate steps forming a gentle trail between beetle-back ferns, dozens of types of herbs, and just as many vegetables, including yellow plumps and a variety of greens. Mist drifted from the Mountains of Dawn and clung to the fingerling mountain. That mist formed low clouds that cloaked the mountain.
The slate-step trail ended abruptly at a large boulder.
A guard stepped up to Madam Po. After examining the terrain surrounding them, the guard said, “The people dwelling below have axes we could use to clear a new path.”
“There is no need,” Madam Po said. “Take your men down the mountain and leave me be. I will continue on my own.”
The guard looked her with astonished eyes. “You can’t! It’s impossible.”
Madam Po tossed her cane upward and then gripped it in the middle. She used it to give the guard a quick but firm tap on the shoulder. “I belong to the royal family of the Po Dynasty. Do not be so foolish as to underestimate what I can do.”
“But I’m here to protect you, Madam Po. I can’t let anything harm you.”
Madam Po lowered her voice so only he could hear. “Then do as I say. The people below pose the most dangerous threat. They suspect the reason why I’m here. They will do anything to follow me and learn the secrets harbored by this mountain. If you understand the Po family, then you know our secrets must be kept safe—especially from people like the ones below us.” She waved her hand at the guard as if shooing away a bothersome fly.
With grim reluctance, the guard took a final look at Madam Po before turning his back on her and making his way downhill.
Madam Po waited until she was convinced the guard had obeyed her and that he would not come back. Once satisfied, she faced the boulder blocking her path and laid a gentle hand on its cool surface.
The boulder shuddered at her touch. Its movement exposed a seam running down the middle of its surface. Moments
later, the boulder split open like a cracked egg. The split allowed just enough room for Madam Po to pass between the two halves of the boulder. Once through, she stepped onto the path continuing behind the split boulder. Evergreens shielded the path from the outside world. The boulder itself eased back together, leaving no evidence of what had become of Madam Po.
She strolled up the path winding around the narrowing peak of the fingerling mountain.
So many changes.
Madam Po observed everything in sight. The trees that she remembered as saplings now towered high above her head. The steps beneath her feet that once were dark and new had paled and worn smooth from exposure to the weather. But the air still smelled fresh and clean.
Something rustled deep in the trees.
Madam Po chuckled. She stopped and turned to face the rustling trees. “There is nothing to fear. Surely you recognize me as a friend.”
A curious feathered head poked out of the foliage. Opening its beak, the creature squawked, “Koo ra koo.”
Madam Po bowed toward the creature and said, “Koo ra koo to you, too.”
A feathered man crept out on a tree limb and cocked his head. He stood as tall as any Far Easterner, but his legs were much thinner, made of hollow bones covered with thin muscles and tough skin. His long and clawed toes curled around the branch on which he stood. Although his feathers looked black at first, when he moved, they shimmered blue in the sunlight.
“I request your assistance,” Madam Po said. “I come seeking help for my great-granddaughter. Would you please let Kikita know that I request her counsel?”
The feathered man cocked his head to the other side. “Koo raka roo. Kikita?”
“Yes,” Madam Po said. “Kikita.”
The feathered man plumped out his feathers until he appeared to double in size. He then shuddered and preened a few feathers back in place. He made several clicking sounds before spreading his wide wings and launching his body skyward. He flew close to the mountainside, so close that no observer on the ground could see him for the tree line surrounding the perimeter of this upper region of the mountain. But his call echoed in the wind. “Kikita. Kikita.”
Delighted to have made so much progress so soon, Madam Po continued up the trail, every step bringing her closer to the mountaintop that she expected to reach by the end of the day.
CHAPTER 27
The next morning Emperor Po stifled a scream when a vivid nightmare about his most beloved daughter in the clutches of Ming Shen woke him up. With his wife still asleep next to him, the emperor clutched his chest and felt his heart pound.
Enough soft morning light spilled into the room for the emperor to recognize he was in his own bedroom. The nightmare had been only a dream. The emperor quickly realized it came in response to the report from his most trusted guard about finding Ming Shen in the hallway outside the courtroom with his hands on Ti as if he intended to capture her as his bride. Fortunately, the guard had invoked the law protecting royal women when inside the Hall of Justice and extracted the Imperial Daughter from Ming Shen.
Emperor Po took solace from thinking about all the places where no one had the legal right to lay claim to his most beloved daughter: the Hall of Justice and everywhere inside the royal palace.
Ti is safe.
But for how much longer?
Emperor Po had never been in a position where he needed to capture a bride. Every woman wanted to marry an emperor, because the royal family provided the greatest shelter, food, and lifestyle for a Far Eastern woman. He shuddered to think of what Ti’s life would have been like had he been a commoner. She would have been fair game at any age for any man. It sickened him to think of a man like Ming Shen placing his wicked hands on Ti.
Emperor Po had waffled long enough about changing the laws. He suspected he’d held back from fear of the reproach bound to be shown by those beneath him.
Of course, everyone will object. Why wouldn’t they? If I change the law, I take away their best chance of becoming emperor someday. But this isn’t about allowing a man outside the Po Dynasty to become emperor. It’s about keeping the emperorship within the royal family.
And it’s about keeping my children safe.
With fresh resolve, the emperor climbed out of bed, dressed, and walked down the long hallway and into his private space.
He retrieved a sheaf of parchment paper and spread it on a desktop. After filling an inkwell, he sharpened a quill and then spent the next hour drawing the careful characters depicting the Far Eastern language.
When finished, Emperor Po allowed the ink to dry and then rolled up the parchment. Striding down the hallway with his parchment in hand, the emperor stopped the first guard he encountered with orders to round up all royal advisors for a meeting to be held at once in the Emperor’s Quarters inside the Hall of Justice.
* * *
A short time later, Ti found herself alone at breakfast. While servants brought food and poured tea for her, Ti wondered why her father hadn’t come to breakfast. She liked rising early, especially because it often afforded her time to spend with her father before his day began. Everyone else in the royal family preferred to sleep until mid-morning.
Asking the servants about her father’s whereabouts proved fruitless. No one had seen him.
No matter. Ti had other things on her mind.
She made her way to the opposite side of the palace designated as the Magician’s Residence. This time fate was on her side—she encountered the magician’s boy Asu Chu immediately.
Before the boy could greet her, Ti gestured for him to keep his silence. Like any good citizen of Zangcheen, he made no sound. Instead, he followed Ti while she wound her way through the maze-like halls of the royal palace.
“Come with me,” Ti whispered, even though there appeared to be no one in sight who could overhear her. “We’re going to the Temple of Dark and Light.” She walked around a corner and used a hidden door to enter a secluded passageway.
Asu Chu followed, but he spoke with hesitation. “Should we be going there alone?”
The only light in the passageway came from a narrow window high above the hidden entrance. When Ti looked back at Asu Chu, the light behind him made it impossible to see his face clearly. “Do you need your father to protect you?” Ti said.
“No,” Asu Chu said, but his voice sounded weak and unsure.
Ti stopped and turned to face him. “I need your help. My safety is at risk. What do you think will happen to you if I’m hurt and the emperor finds out you could have done something to save me from harm?”
Asu Chu gulped. “Who would want to hurt you? You’re the Imperial Daughter.”
Ti didn’t hesitate to answer. “Ming Shen. Did you know he accosted me yesterday? Right outside the court while my father was inside!”
Asu Chu gulped again. “I didn’t know. No one told me.”
Good. That means my father is keeping his silence.
“No one knows,” Ti said. “Only the emperor, his most trusted guard, Ming Shen, and me. And now you.”
Asu Chu’s voice became stronger. “You honor me.”
“Yes, I do. Now, will you help me?”
She heard him say “Yes” in the darkness.
Ti led him to a hidden entrance to the Temple of Dark and Light. Like the secret passageway, one small window high above let in a small amount of light. “I need you to create a tableau of magic to prevent Ming Shen from putting his hands on me again.”
“I think I can do that,” Asu Chu said. “I need some things. Father keeps supplies in the back room.” He walked a few steps and opened a hidden door. Pale light spilled from the open doorway, and Ti followed Asu Chu inside the secret room.
Throwing aside heavy curtains, Asu Chu exposed another window that allowed strong light to fall into the magician’s chamber. He then approached a large marble basin that contained a tiny man-made pond. Pots of flowers surrounded the basin.
Asu Chu scooped a handful of dirt from one p
ot and added a small amount of water to turn it into mud. He scanned a row of bottles containing herbs, spices, and other items lining the top of a narrow table pushed against one wall. He selected a bottle and poured a measure of its contents into his hand. “This is slurry of feather-stone clay,” he said. “It binds everything together better.”
He molded the clay in his hands until it resembled a mortal figure the size of the boy’s thumb. Asu Chu then pulled a wooden box from beneath the table and pulled out a remnant of dark blue silk. “I saw Ming Shen wear a robe this color. But first I tell the gods who this is.” He picked out a bottle of ink and a black-stained quill. He then took his time to draw meticulous characters directly onto the clay figure.
Ti studied him. “What does that mean?”
Asu Chu looked at her in surprise. “Don’t you know how to read? Or write?”
Shame washed through Ti at the thought that the magician’s boy seemed baffled by her inabilities. She heard that shame in her voice when she said, “No.”
Asu Chu focused on his work again. “I can teach you.”
Relief replaced Ti’s shame, and her fondness for Asu Chu deepened. Everyone knew women weren’t allowed to read or write, not even royal women. And yet Asu Chu acted as if it were something that Ti should know. “I would like to learn,” Ti said, her voice now sounding stronger and more confident.
When Asu Chu finished drawing the characters on the clay figure, he wrapped its torso with the blue silk. “Now that I’ve marked Ming Shen, I need to set up an event.”
“An event.”
Asu Chu brightened and spoke with excitement. “It’s how the magic works. You said it yourself: you want me to set up a tableau. It’s best when the tableau is an event, like a funeral or festival or feast. That’s how the magic knows when to act.” He turned the clay figure around in his hands. “How soon do you want this to happen?”
Ti pressed her lips together, remembering the horrible fear that had engulfed her when Ming Shen grabbed her in the Hall of Justice. Her muscles still ached from the tension she’d felt at his dreadful touch. She trembled every time she thought about what might have happened if the guard hadn’t arrived as soon as he did to keep Ming Shen in his place. “Soon.”