The Buried World (The Grave Kingdom)

by Jeff Wheeler

  “If there were a way to banish you to the deserts of Namibu, I would gladly do so. If there were any pit deep enough to bury your malice, I would order a million men to dig it for you.”

  “Alas . . . you cannot. We are bound together, you and I. Hate me, despise me, threaten me . . . it avails you nothing. Without us both, your Iron Rules will turn to rust.” She sighed. “But it feels so good to be alive again. How long were we dead, and where is the chick who pierced our shells?”

  “By my reckoning, it has been nearly eight hundred years,” Echion said with disdain. “They’ve scrabbled hard to survive the harsh cold and the dark winters. If we’d left them alone for much longer, circumstances would have begun to tip against us. I had to intervene.”

  “Which king prevailed?” Xisi asked.

  “The king of Sajinau came the closest. But he has joined the Grave Kingdom and will serve on that side of the Woliu. Shall we open it again, my dear?”

  “I am not ready to summon the tianshi,” she said dispassionately. “We can go a little longer without their help. My powers are building. It is midnight still?”

  “Yes. Perhaps you should rest.”

  “Perhaps you should swallow poison.”

  “How many times have you already murdered me?”

  “I never grow tired of it, Echion.”

  Bingmei was appalled by the way they spoke to each other. She was still hunkered down behind the sarcophagus, hoping they would forget about her. The tingling sensations had left her limbs, and she felt anchored inside her body once again. The agony of summoning Xisi had scarred her mind.

  “You are hateful.”

  “You are proud,” Xisi quipped in return. “Now where is the hatchling? I felt her hand touch the bier. It’s a young one this time? A girl?”

  “Stand, Bingmei. Stand so I may slay you with the sword of your ancestors.”

  “Bingmei? I like her name.”

  “You should. Because you, too, are an ice rose with plenty of thorns.”

  “How you like to flatter me,” Xisi said.

  Bingmei felt her legs pulse from the command, and she slowly rose from behind the bier. When she saw Xisi in her restored form, her jaw hung open in wonder. The woman’s beauty exceeded even that of Mieshi. The scintillating colors of her silk robes, jackets, braided work, and headdress were a dazzling contrast to her dark hair and lovely skin. She was young, hardly older than Bingmei herself, yet her voice had revealed a depth of life experience that went far beyond the natural age of her restored body.

  “Poor thing,” said Xisi upon seeing her. She smelled the woman’s disgust for her strange-colored hair and pale skin. According to Echion, the winter sickness was only feared and dreaded because of him—the man who’d crushed the world again and again. Xisi had not been raised on that fear, but Bingmei’s appearance likely reminded her of the man she had wed. The man she so clearly hated. And yet, she also smelled the woman’s relief. As vain as Xisi was, she was also insecure about her beauty, and Bingmei was too plain and small and pale to be a rival. How could someone so stunning feel so unworthy of admiration? “Look how she trembles! Greetings, Bingmei. You have done a noble deed. ’Tis a pity we must kill you. I should have enjoyed you serving me.”

  “She is vicious and cunning,” Echion said.

  “Those are compliments, Husband, coming from you,” Xisi said. She stepped forward, her skirts rustling, the jewels adorning her making little noises like glass windchimes. Bingmei’s attention shot to those strange pointed cones on her smallest fingers, like dragon claws. They were so sharp at the ends they could rip her skin effortlessly. Fear surged inside her.

  Echion still gripped the Phoenix Blade in his hand, the tip pointed down. He brought the weapon up, holding it so that she saw his eyes on each side of the sharp edge. Her fear turned to panic.

  Bingmei dropped down on her knees before Xisi. There was no running from the palace as she had before. “Spare me,” she said, her voice choking.

  “But you are too dangerous to be kept alive,” Xisi said with a mocking smile. “It is truly for the best if you die now, when you are so young and fragile.”

  The lack of compassion that emanated from Xisi’s heart was frightening.

  An idea struck her mind. Whether it came from her own thoughts or from the phoenix, she didn’t know. But the intention was clear. She had to reveal her gift. It was so rare, so unusual, that it might be useful to someone like the Dragon Queen.

  “I know I am nothing compared with your greatness,” Bingmei said. Echion snorted with disgust. “But I have a gift that would serve your interests.” She gave Xisi an imploring look as the queen came to stand in front of her. The queen’s jeweled finger pieces glittered at her.

  “You have nothing that I could want,” Echion said. He started forward, sweeping the sword down. She smelled his intention to kill her.

  “I can smell people’s emotions,” she said. Casting a frightened glance at Echion, she said, “Some of the members of your ensign are not loyal to you. They are biding their time, seeking to learn your weaknesses. I can tell who they are.” She swallowed, turning back to Xisi. “And the concubines. I know which ones would be rivals. Which ones he would care for. I can sense love, anger, and I know when someone lies.” Her attention shifted to Echion as he closed the distance between them with growing rage. “That’s how I knew you had deceived Budai. How I knew it was you and not Jidi Majia who visited me the other night.”

  Echion raised the sword again, unmoved.

  “Wait,” said Xisi, holding up her hand. She smelled intrigued. She smelled excited. This was something new.

  “She must die!” Echion said. “All else is pointless!”

  “Of course,” said Xisi. “But I wish to test her words. This could be useful. Very useful in our court.”

  Echion lunged forward to thrust the sword through her body. Bingmei, on her knees, fell backward to try to dodge the blow, but Echion’s reflexes far exceeded hers.

  Xisi’s nostrils flared, and she lifted her hand. Suddenly Echion was thrown backward, harshly and violently, and crashed against the floor. The blade clanged against the marble tiles and skidded away from him. Xisi turned, her beautiful face twisting with malice as she faced her husband.

  “You cannot supersede my power,” she scolded. “When I have chosen to protect a child, it is my choice!”

  Echion’s face contorted with wrath, and he climbed back to his feet. He looked haggard, drained by the effects of her power. “She will kill us both if we let her live! Destroy her now!”

  “She is a duckling, a chick. She is nothing compared to us. But it is my dominion to choose which young ones to protect, to cultivate. The balance, Husband, must be maintained. I do not rein in your ambition. And you do not interfere with me either. It is my right to spare her life for now if it pleases me. Even from you.”

  Echion’s cheeks trembled as he clenched his jaw. “How I hate you,” he said.

  “You don’t know the first thing about hatred,” she said coldly.

  Somehow it had worked. Bingmei had survived. It was a tenuous thing, and she feared the Dragon Queen’s protection could easily be lost. After the fateful confrontation in the Hall of Memory, Bingmei had been taken to the queen’s private chambers. They were in another palace, one nearly as grand as Echion’s . . . but smaller. No doubt that snub was deliberate. The gold plating every piece of furniture glowed in the lights left burning by magic. Velvet cushions and a bed large enough to fit a dragon took up much of the chamber. Along one wall, concubines dressed according to court customs had been assembled in a long row, heads bowed, hands together with fingers splayed. Bingmei saw Cuifen and Eomen among the others.

  Xisi walked in front of them, eyeing each of them for signs of imperfection. Her scrutiny smelled of bitter lettuce. Bingmei watched as it happened, fearing to make a sound lest Xisi change her mind. What would she do if Xisi asked her to point out which women were possible rivals? The fear of not
knowing nearly paralyzed her.

  But she didn’t. In the end, she turned to Jidi Majia, who stood at the head of the row, and said, “Send them to bed. It will be dawn soon.”

  “As you command,” Jidi Majia replied, bowing in reverence. The smell of sadness was overpowering. But he was relieved to be dismissed.

  All the concubines left, leaving Bingmei alone with the queen. She was frightened but kept her expression vacant.

  Xisi turned and beckoned for her to come closer. “I would test your powers,” she said. “If you lied back in the Hall of Memory, I will kill you now.”

  “How will you test me?”

  “There is a game the maidens of my court were wont to play. Two truths are spoken. And one lie. Not in that order, of course. One must guess which of the three is the lie. If you can, as you claim, smell it . . . then you will know which thing I tell you is untrue. Do you need to meditate or prepare yourself?”

  Bingmei shook her head no, clasping her hands behind her back in a gesture of submission. Although Xisi might look young, she was as ancient and powerful as her husband.

  “Very well.” She turned her back on Bingmei to conceal her face and any expression that might give away the answer. The patterns on her colorful robes made Bingmei slightly dizzy.

  “I am ready,” Bingmei said.

  “In my earlier life, I was the daughter of a great nobleman and chosen as a maid of the empress. My father was given twelve caskets of gold as my dowry.” She paused, letting silence reign.

  Bingmei smelled nothing out of the ordinary. She waited.

  “Now for the second. My name means the ‘west fourth.’ When a couple’s fourth child was born a daughter back then, that was what she was called. A name of no significance.” Again, she paused.

  There was no smell of deception, and Bingmei began to worry that her gift might fail her. That Xisi had a way of masking a lie. Or could it be she was saving the lie for the end?

  “The final is this. A man once deceived the chieftains into thinking he was a eunuch so he could become my lover. His name was Li Jinxi, and he could comb my hair without leaving a single strand out of place.”

  That statement was easily the most outlandish, but it no more smelled like a lie than the others had.

  Xisi turned around and slightly tilted her head, her mouth in a small pout. “Which was the lie, Bingmei?”

  None had smelled wrong. Bingmei, still clasping her hands behind her back, worried that she was being tricked. She could smell no lie coming from Xisi.

  “They were all the truth, Your Majesty,” Bingmei said.

  A glimmer came to Xisi’s eyes. “Sometimes the best lie is the truth,” she said with a cunning smile.

  Bingmei’s stomach dropped.

  “You are right. You could prove to be a very valuable servant. You know which of my husband’s warriors resent him? You would know which of his concubines secretly love him? Oh, that alone could make this new life very interesting to me. Echion cannot slay you if I forbid it. You know the bronze lions that guard the gates of Fusang?”

  Bingmei nodded, restraining a flinch at the memory of how easily they’d killed Zhuyi.

  “One has its paw over an orb. The orb symbolizes power and wealth. The other has its paw over a cub. That symbolizes posterity. Both lions are equal in power but different in duty. A dragon always seeks to devour its young—it cannot share power—but rulers cannot succeed in the long term without cultivating those who are loyal to them. I will let you live for now, Bingmei. If you continue to prove useful to me.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Bingmei said, bowing her head, relieved but no less afraid. The woman she’d allied herself to was little better than the man who sought to kill her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Two Souls

  The sun rose in the middle of the night, as it always did in summer. Bingmei felt a hand shake her shoulder. She blinked, seeing the Dragon Queen’s room sparkling with light. She lay on a couch in a screened-off corner of the room. Too little sleep had left her with the beginnings of a throbbing headache. But she was alive.

  “Come, Bingmei,” Eomen said, shaking her gently a second time. “She sent for you.”

  “Who?” Bingmei asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

  “The queen. Hurry.”

  Bingmei left the couch and started walking toward the sound of voices. She recognized the Dragon Queen’s voice clearly and heard the mocking edge to it. After Bingmei passed through a partially open screen door, she saw Xisi walking slowly past a row of standing concubines. She was inspecting each and offering little criticisms.

  “Who did your hair? It’s terrible. Please do not come into my presence like that again. I see the little things. If you don’t respect yourself, that is your concern, but your appearance reflects on me. Only the best will serve the Dragon Emperor. Now, look at you. Your nails are too long. Let me see your hands. They are too rough.”

  On and on she went, while Bingmei lingered near the opening of the screen. All the eyes of the concubines were fixed on the queen, and the smells of shame and worry exuded from the room. Xisi reached Cuifen next and said, “My, you are beautiful. He will enjoy your company, I should think. What skills do you have? Can you play the harp or sing?”

  “I-I can sing. A little,” answered Cuifen modestly.

  “Then you must practice before me. This afternoon. I will have the head eunuch arrange it. Show me your best work, my dear. My husband will fancy you very much.”

  As she said this, Bingmei could smell the jealousy like the spray of a citrus peel. Then a darker, angrier emotion bloomed, and Bingmei realized it was Xisi’s intent to have Cuifen killed.

  “Bingmei. There you are. Come closer.”

  Xisi had finally noticed her. Bingmei came in with a docile bow.

  “Aren’t they lovely, Bingmei?” Xisi said. She was wearing a different gown now, more pink than blue, with a different headdress. She still wore the long finger sheathes that ended in sharp points. The smile on her face was as dangerous as it was beautiful.

  “They are,” Bingmei agreed, bowing again.

  Xisi turned to her, a frown on her mouth. “Come. I must give you a gift. Follow me.” The queen sauntered away from the consorts, leaving them standing in a row, their emotions still roiling from her criticisms. She took Bingmei to a series of waiting tables upon which sat some small intricately painted porcelain boxes. She examined several before opening one. The porcelain clinked as she lifted the lid off and set it down on the marble tabletop.

  Inside was a bracelet of meiwood beads. “This is for you,” Xisi said. “Hold out your wrist.”

  Bingmei obeyed, and Xisi fastened the bead bracelet to her forearm. She noticed glyphs scrawled into the meiwood. The same symbol was written across each of them.

  “There,” said Xisi in a pretty voice. “Now my husband cannot poison you. He will try, of course. The sigil on the beads is the word for ‘rat.’ They are highly sensitive to poison. If you lift food or drink that is poisoned, you’ll feel the sigils grow warm against your wrist. That’s your warning.”

  “Thank you,” Bingmei said, surprised and shocked by the easy manner in which Xisi talked about poison and her husband.

  “He will try, anyway. I won’t let him succeed. Prove your worth to me, Bingmei, and I may let you serve me in the palace. Right now, you are unfit for service.” She smelled the disdain that came from Xisi as she reached up and toyed with strands of Bingmei’s hair. “Although it’s the beautiful color of phoenix plumage, it is untamed and wild as a yak’s hair. And you will never come into my presence again wearing the same robes as the day before. You are not a concubine, so you will not dress like one. Not that anyone would want you. But you will garb yourself as befits a warrior. I will even allow you to train with my private guard. Come, Zhuyi.”

  At the mention of the name, Bingmei turned and looked at the woman who approached them. She wore silk robes with short sleeves, unlike the wider
sleeves from Sihui. As soon as Bingmei saw her, she recognized that this was her Zhuyi, who had perished on their arrival to Fusang. Her hair was carefully braided, and she had a straight sword slung around her shoulder on a band. A bracelet made of jade adorned her wrist. She had no smell whatsoever, which was why Bingmei hadn’t even noticed her enter.

  As Zhuyi approached, her face betrayed no recognition of Bingmei. She came and bowed before Xisi. “How may I serve you, Mistress?”

  “Take Bingmei to the warrior’s hall and see that she is properly attired. No weapons. Not yet. She must still earn my trust. If she wishes to practice her skills, I am content. Though not the phoenix form. That is forbidden in the dragon palace. Dragons brook no rivals.” Her gaze narrowed on Bingmei. “I heard you did it in the courtyard yesterday. If you try it again, there are orders to shoot you. You’ve been warned.”

  The warning sent a jolt of fear through Bingmei’s bones. “I-I won’t,” she said, bowing again. Not smelling Zhuyi felt like a kind of blindness.

  “Good. I don’t grant many second chances, Bingmei. Seek to please me. Always.” She lifted her chin dismissively and turned and walked back to the concubines to continue the ordeal.

  Bingmei stared at Zhuyi. “Zhuyi,” Bingmei whispered in an urgent undertone.

  “Yes?” came the reply.

  “You don’t remember me?”

  “Of course I do. You were part of Kunmia’s ensign.” The words were flat, devoid of feeling. “Come with me. We must obey.”

  Bingmei nodded and followed, wondering at her bond sister’s transformation. Zhuyi had always been quiet and thoughtful, but something about her lack of reaction and emotions seemed wrong.

  “Did Echion bring you back to life?” Bingmei asked.

  “Do not use the master’s true name,” Zhuyi said dispassionately. “You are unworthy to utter it. He is the master. The dark lord. The dragon. Always use their titles. Never their names. They are not like us.”

  “I’m sorry. This is all very new to me. How did you survive?”

  “The dark lord brought part of my soul back from the Grave Kingdom after you escaped. He wished to know more about the ensign, about Kunmia and why she had tried to fight him.”