by Nghi Vo
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For my family
Chapter One
“Something wants to eat you,” called Almost Brilliant from her perch in a nearby tree, “and I shall not be sorry if it does.”
Chiming bells. Chih rolled to their feet, glancing around the perimeter and squinting at the jangling string of bells that surrounded the small campsite. For a moment, they were back at the abbey in Singing Hills, late for another round of prayers, chores, and lessons, but Singing Hills did not smell of ghosts and damp pine boughs. Singing Hills did not make the hairs on Chih’s arms rise up in alarm or their heart lurch with panic.
The bells were still again.
“Whatever it is, it’s passed. It’s safe to come down.”
The hoopoe chirped something that managed to convey both suspicion and exasperation in a two-tone call, but she came down to settle on Chih’s head, shifting uneasily.
“The protections must still be up. We are very close to Lake Scarlet now.”
“We wouldn’t even have gotten this far if they were.” Chih considered for a moment, and then they stepped into their sandals and ducked under the belled string.
Almost Brilliant fluttered up in alarm before coming down to land on Chih’s shoulder this time.
“Cleric Chih, get back to your campsite! You are going to get killed, and then I will have to tell the Divine how terribly irresponsible you were.”
“Be sure to make a good account of it,” Chih said absently. “Hush now; I think I can see what made that racket.”
The hoopoe made a disgruntled rustling noise, but she dug her claws more firmly into Chih’s shoulder. Despite their bravado, the neixin’s feathery weight on their shoulder was a comfort, and Chih reached up to stroke her crest gently before walking between the pines.
They knew that there was no road there. They had crossed the white pine copse earlier that day, and though they could see the remnants of a road underneath the overgrown bracken and fallen boughs, it wouldn’t have let a dogcart through. Chih suspected that the road had once connected Lake Scarlet to the royal highway, in the days before the lake had been taken off every map and effectively disappeared by a highly dedicated and skilled imperial sorcerer.
There was no road there during the day, but obviously at night, things were different. The road ran as broad as a barge through the trees, and ranged on either side were faded ghosts, the former guardians of Lake Scarlet. Even a few months ago, Chih knew, the ghosts would have fallen on any living thing that crossed their path, tearing them to pieces and then crying because they were still so hungry.
Now, though, they had eyes for nothing but the palanquin coming down the ghost road from the east, the direction of Lake Scarlet. It was borne by six veiled men. Their feet did not quite touch the ground. In the moonlight, it was all silvered, but Chih could tell that by all rights, it should be swathed in imperial red and gold, the mammoth and lion of the empire embroidered in lavish detail on the curtains.
There was only one woman in the world who had the right to show the mammoth and the lion, and she was to be crowned in her first Dragon Court in the capital.
Well, thought Chih, curling their hand around Almost Brilliant for comfort, only one living woman.
Chih bowed as low as the ghosts around them as the palanquin went by, wishing with all their might that the late empress would open the drapes and show her face. Would it be the wrinkled woman swathed in thick silks Chih had once glimpsed as a child on Houksen, or would it be a far younger woman, the Empress of Salt and Fortune as she had first come to Anh, before the end of the eternal summer and before the mammoth had trampled the lion?
When Chih straightened, ghosts and road and empress were gone, leaving nothing behind but Chih’s own pounding heart.
“Did you see that?” they asked Almost Brilliant, who had finally stopped shivering.
“Yes,” said the hoopoe, her normally shrill tone subdued. “That was worth being terrified that you were going to die in a truly terrible fashion.”
Chih laughed, smoothing a finger over Almost Brilliant’s crest, and starting the short walk back to their campsite.
“Come on. We can get a few more hours of sleep before we need to pack up and start walking again.”
It took another two days’ walk through the birch barrens before they came to the narrow beach of Lake Scarlet at dusk. The lake itself was almost perfectly circular, formed from the death of a falling star, and farther down the beach Chih saw the low green-tiled roof of the former empress’s compound. To their surprise, there was a lantern lit on the porch built over the water.
“Don’t tell me it’s looters already?”
As they watched, however, an old woman came walking out of the house with a smart step, and when she reached the railing, she stared out over the water and at the indigo sky above, where the stars were stepping forward. Chih was just wondering what to do when the old woman caught sight of them.
“Come over! You can see the lake better from here!”
Almost Brilliant kept her own counsel, so Chih picked their way along the rocky shore of the beach, coming up the shallow steps to the porch just as the last salmon light was leaving the sky. The old woman gestured for them to come closer.
“Come, you’re just in time.”
She indicated that Chih was meant to help themself from the small dish of sesame crackers on the railing, but she herself looked distracted, gazing over the black water and holding one cracker in her hand. After a few moments, she turned down the lantern wick until it emitted only a sullen glow.
“Grandmother, I’m here to—”
“Shush, girl, it’s happening.”
Above was the rapidly darkening sky. All around them was the darkness of the birch barrens, and spread out before them was Lake Scarlet, like a mirror reflecting nothing but night. At first, Chih thought it was their imagination, nothing more than a mirage that came after staring at something too hard, but then they realized that it was real. There was a faint glow coming from the water itself, something like the very last gleam of a dying hearth fire.
“What—”
“Shh. Watch. Just watch.”
Chih held their breath as the soft red glow brightened, sweeping across the lake like the sparks of New Year fireworks. It was brilliant, too hard to look at so very closely, and it flooded the water, enough so they could make out individual trees on the beach, the black silhouette of the night birds on the water, and the seamed face of the woman standing next to them, creased in pleasure.
“I was hoping it would go tonight. It’s still a little cold yet, but it has come even earlier in some years.”
Chih stood side by side with the woman, staring out over the pyrotechnic display before them. Just a short while after the red lights came up to their full brightness, they started to dim again. Chih counted in their head. When they had reached one hundred, there was only a faint reddish glow to the water.
The old woman sighed happily as she turned the lamp back up.
“Every time, it is like the first, and I have not seen it in sixty years. Come inside; it’s still too cold for my brittle bones.”
Chih was old enough to know that no one was harmless, and still young enough to obey instantly that tone of command from an older woman. They followed her into the residence, where she lit several paper lamps. There was a damp chill to the small room they sat in, but the light helped a little. They sat together on the leather cushions around the empty hearth, and the old woman looked a little closer at Chih, taking in their shaved head, belled string, and indigo robes.
“Oh, I see I was mistaken. Not a girl at all, but a cleric.”
Chih smiled.
“It’s an easy mistake, grandmother, but yes. I am Cleric Chih from the Singing Hills abbey. This little feathery menace is Almost Brilliant.”
Almost Brilliant whooped in indignation at being so described and showed off her manners by alighting in front of their hostess and tocking the boards in front of her twice with her narrow beak.
“Most honored to make your acquaintance, matriarch,” Almost Brilliant said in her grumbling gravelly voice.
“And I yours, Mistress Almost Brilliant. If your cleric is from the Singing Hills, you must be a neixin, are you not?”
Almost Brilliant’s feathers fluffed out in pride. “Yes, matriarch. I am descended from the line of Ever Victorious and Always Kind. Our memories go all the way back to the Xun Dynasty.”
“What a pleasure. They killed so many of your kind during the reign of Emperor Sung. I was not sure I would ever see another.”
“The Singing Hills aviary was torched, but our Divine at the time sent three pairs of nesting couples to their relatives across the Hu River,” said Chih. “Among them were Almost Brilliant’s great-grandparents. If you know about neixin, grandmother, you must know how they need to have a place and a name for everything.”
“And I imagine you do as well, don’t you, cleric? Very well. My family name is Sun, but I have always been called Rabbit.” She grinned, showing two teeth that were indeed longer than the ones around them.
“Children used to tease me about it when I was young, but I am very old now, and I have never lost a single tooth.”
Almost Brilliant whistled in satisfaction, and Chih grinned.
“Welcome to your place in history, grandmother. Do you live nearby? I didn’t think anyone was likely to beat me to Lake Scarlet when the word came down about the declassification.”
“I have family that run an inn along the road. It’s funny. The locals think the area is cursed from the red glow of the lake, but I’ve always thought it beautiful. Like bonfires and fireworks. But now that you are here, and Almost Brilliant as well, I am pleased that the true history of Lake Scarlet will be told.”
Chih smiled at Rabbit’s words. She sounded a little like the former Divine, who had always encouraged their acolytes to speak to the florists and the bakers as much as to the warlords and magistrates. Accuracy above all things. You will never remember the great if you do not remember the small.
“I am due in the capital for the eclipse next month and the new empress’s first Dragon Court, but I was at Kailin when the word came down that all of the sites put under imperial lock during Empress In-yo’s reign were being declassified. I was so close to Lake Scarlet that I couldn’t resist.”
Rabbit laughed in a friendly way.
“Couldn’t resist being the first to unearth Thriving Fortune’s secrets, either, could you, Cleric Chih?”
“I won’t deny that ambition has its part to play in my stopping, but I have never heard the name Thriving Fortune before, grandmother.”
“You wouldn’t. It is what the female attendants of Empress In-yo called it when they first came here from the capital. It was a joke, you see. They were all of the court, and it was a bitter thing indeed for them to be sent into the wilderness with a barbarian empress.”
Chih sat very still, and next to them, Almost Brilliant cocked her head to one side.
“It sounds like you knew of them, grandmother.”
Rabbit snorted.
“Of course I did. I came all this way with them, and it was I who told them to hire my father to come up every week with supplies from the main road. They never knew to tip him, or perhaps they thought their cosmopolitan beauty was tip enough. Pah!”
“I would be grateful, grandmother, for any stories you could tell me of the empress’s time here at Lake Scarlet. I do not have any money, but I will be more than happy to share my food with you, and if you have any chores that need to be done—”
“No, cleric, save your food and your labor. This house is very old, and you will have your work cut out for you if you want to be in the capital for the eclipse. But now I am tired, and I should retire.”
She blew out all save two lanterns, picking one up to carry comfortably in her hand.
“You may take the other and choose whatever room you care to take. I always get up early, and I will be happy to help you with whatever your work entails.”
She padded into the darker reaches of the house, and Chih and Almost Brilliant listened as her shushing footsteps faded into nothing.
“I would go outside if only there were not owls in the pines,” Almost Brilliant said unhappily. “I do not like the roof over this place.”
“And I’m not sure I care for the rest, but at least we have been made welcome.”
After a little bit of exploring, they found a storage room nearby, small enough that Chih could stretch out flat on the floor and feel the walls around all sides. They spread their bedroll on the polished wooden floor, and then carefully and deliberately, they hung their string of bells across the closed panel of the door.
Above them in the rafters, Almost Brilliant made a roost close to the eaves, watching but saying nothing. When Chih finally drifted off, a fold of their robe tucked around their body against the spring chill, they did not dream of ghouls or ghosts, but instead of sunlight on bright water and a rabbit nosing at the makeup stand of a fine lady.
Chapter Two
Robe. Silk, silk thread, ruby bead. Green background embroidered with darker green leaves. A single red ruby beetle bead rests on a green leaf on the right arm.
Sleeping robe. Silk, muslin, and silk thread. Mulberry muslin edged with white silk, the archaic characters for “Restful Sleep” embroidered inside the collar.
Tunic. White fur, black fur, suede, and ivory. White fur striped with black along the sleeves. A pattern of waves has been shaved into the fur. The inside is lined with suede, and the throat closed with an ivory toggle.
“That’s a tooth.”
Chih and Almost Brilliant looked up as Rabbit came in with four small bowls on a tray. One was filled with fatty scraps that she set in front of Almost Brilliant, who flapped down from the rafters to peck at them with pleasure.
“A tooth?” asked Chih, touching the ivory carefully. It was smooth under their fingers and carved with curling lines that hurt their eyes when they looked at it too closely. The entire sealskin tunic was made with consummate skill, but it was easily as heavy on its own as any four of the silk dresses that were bundled in the cedar chest with it.
“Yes. Come eat some pounded rice, and I shall tell you what the empress told me.”
Chih came to sit across from Rabbit with the tray between them. They had not lost their wariness from the night before, but in daylight, Rabbit looked like so many of the lay sisters who were constantly in and out of the abbey, as much fixtures as the stone hoopoes that studded the walls or the smell of wood pulp being milled into sheets of paper.
The pounded rice was still warm and flavored with birch water, and the two of them ate companionably for a while, scooping the rice into their mouths with spooned fingers and cleaning them in the bowl of water. Rabbit rinsed her bowl neatly before setting it aside, and she smiled at the white seal-fur dress as if it were an old acquaintance spotted in the marketplace.
* * *
I suppose yo
u have guessed by now that I am quite at home in this old place. It is true that my family is from this region, but when I was only five, the county sent me along with one hundred san of birch water, thirty young goats, and fifty caskets of orange dye to the capital. It was meant to be fifty-five caskets of dye, you see, and they hoped if they sent me along that the tax collectors would be forgiving.
I suppose they were, and I spent the next four years scrubbing the Palace of Gleaming Light, never raising my head. I got to know the palace by the baseboards, the wood of the floors, the smell of the paper screens, and the way that lamp oil burned all night, never letting the darkness approach His Most Divine Presence the Emperor of Pine and Steel, Emperor Sung.
I might have been a rabbit-toothed girl from the provinces, but I worked so well that when I was ten, I had been promoted to cleaning the women’s quarters. I was so proud when they gave me the veil that marked me as one of the servants of the inner house. If I could have written then, I would have written to my father and mother of how their daughter, veiled and wearing household green, was lined up along the Paulwonia Hall with two hundred others to greet the new empress from the north.
The royal household agency positioned us before dawn, prowling up and down the lines as nervously as cats and lashing out with their horsehair whips when we slouched or yawned. More than one girl fainted, but I was a strong thing, and I stood like a statue until past noon, when there was a great commotion in the courtyard. We knew from the snapping of banners and the shouts of the guards that the empress had arrived.
She did not come, as her late mother had once threatened, with a battalion of mammoths to bring down the walls of the Palace of Gleaming Light. Instead, she had come with only an honor guard that was barred from the inner palace, and so she walked down the long hallway to the court of the emperor all alone.
We had been scolded and smacked and told that if we raised our eyes to the future mother of the emperor we would be relegated to cleaning the kitchen refuse pits. I could not help myself, however, and I glanced up to see her pass by.