Scale-Bright
Page 19
“I found your family.” Houyi pours her lukewarm water, keeping at arm’s length as though unsure if she may touch Chang’e.
“Family.” Chang’e holds her cup, presses it to her smeared cheek for relief. “I’ve family left?”
“Your niece had children. It took me a while to track them--they spread and went away to far lands. Some never came back; it’s difficult to read their footprints.” The archer brushes away what remains of her wife’s hair. Charred handfuls fall out. “Her name’s Julienne.”
Chang’e repeats it. “What a peculiar name.”
“She is of the same blood as you. Else when she burned it the ladder wouldn’t have found you.”
“Or let me escape.” Kinship, she thinks, the surest anchor.
She looks at her wife, who has done so much, who has opened this path. “Can you,” she asks uncertainly, “take me to see this girl?”
* * *
Julienne zips up her jacket and chafes her hand, wishing she’d declined the invitation to the class reunion. Her schoolmates haven’t gotten any more interesting than the last time, and all the women remain--as far as she can tell--depressingly straight.
At her feet night club flyers rustle, garish things heavy on neon-pink and black. Tomorrow someone is going to be fined for littering. She stops at a 7-11 for chrysanthemum tea, a bar of chocolate, sanitary pads. Ordinary items for an ordinary life.
The MTR station is quiet, dead last-train hours and closed convenience stores. She hopes that the one night of oddity in Che Kung hasn’t ruined her for a lifetime of normalcy. In a way Julienne resents that woman--whoever or whatever she was, for surely she was not that Hau Ngai--for disrupting her life. She tries not to dwell on it as she waves her card at the turnstile, goes down the escalator, and into a front carriage. The only other passenger is an older man, dozing. Yesterday’s issue of the Apple Daily flutters by his side.
The smartphone in his shirt pocket chirps and shakes at the next stop. He wakes groggily, disembarks, and Julienne finds herself alone.
A hand falls on her shoulder, jerking her out of the white-noise zone born of electrical glare and the ghost of her own reflection foregrounding the tunnel rushing by. Julienne looks up to find two women. One tall, in suit and slacks. The other, astonishingly, in cheongsam. Pearls in her hair, either a net or secured by supernatural means.
The goddess is known to be exquisite.
Julienne realizes her mouth has fallen open. She shuts it.
Seung Ngo cups Julienne’s face in her hands. She startles to find that the goddess’ palms are not velvet; they are rough, harder than her own, as though she is a woman who works with her hands. The most menial Julienne’s ever gotten is with keyboards. Carefully, as if speaking Gwongdongwa for the first time Seung Ngo says, “My wife was wrong. I do see written on you my mother and Third Niece.”
Finding her voice finally she says, a little irritably, “Not my parents, I hope.”
The goddess--her ancestress--lets her hands fall away. “You’re your own, mostly. Will you introduce me to the rest of our clan?”
Julienne splutters a laugh. “I don’t think they can take the shock.”
“They don’t have to know everything. And you, of course, will always be my favorite.”
“Do I get the thickest red envelope?”
“Insolent child,” Seung Ngo says fondly. “I’ll stuff yours with gold.”
A cool female voice announces that the next station is the end of the Island line. Julienne tries to imagine New Year and Chingming with all their family obligations. She’s refused to show up for several years now. “Next Zungcauzit my cousins in Indonesia and Singapore are coming home. You’re supposed to be on the moon by then, but…”
Seung Ngo laughs. “I’ll be with you, not to worry. I’ve never tasted mortal-made mooncakes.”
“We put ice-cream in them now. All sorts of fillings. You can even buy them off-season.”
“Oh, my,” the goddess says.
“But until then I’ve got photo albums. Of--the family. Baby pictures too. Do you want to see?”
“I’d like nothing more.”
The two immortals take each of Julienne’s arms, clasping her between them, and somehow they exit without needing either octopus card or ticket. Julienne knows that this year she’ll attend all the family gatherings. Perhaps they won’t go very well. But she will have two divine aunts with her, and isn’t that worth something?
Very different, if nothing else. And never boring.
“It feels like I’m continuing a story,” Julienne breathes. “You might’ve heard of it before.”
Hau Ngai tilts her head. “And which one is that?”
“On the moon,” she begins, grinning, “there’s a lady with a rabbit...”
Acknowledgments
My thanks to Carmelo Rafala, who published the hardback edition of this book through his Immersion Press, and who's been excellent throughout. Gratitude to my sisters for their patience and encouragement. I'd also like to thank Lavie Tidhar and Aliette de Bodard for their infinite kindness, and Ann Leckie for her innumerable acts of generosity, one of which was publishing the story which gave rise to Scale-Bright. Likewise Scott H. Andrews, whose publication of "The Crows Her Dragon's Gate" marked one of my first milestones as a writer.
Last but not least, to the very special person: for always being there, long before this book began and through the wonderful, dazzling journey I've undertaken since. I've failed to dedicate my work to you before; this is for you.
About the Author
Benjanun Sriduangkaew lives in Hong Kong, where she is inspired to write love letters to strange cities, history, and the future. She writes fantasy mythic and contemporary, science fiction space operatic and military, and has a strong appreciation for beautiful bugs.
Her short fiction can be found in Tor.com, Clarkesworld, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Phantasm Japan, Dangerous Games, Solaris Rising 3, various Mammoth Books and best of the year collections. She is a finalist for the Campbell Award for Best New Writer and her stories have made appearances on the Locus Recommended Reading List.
She can be found online at beekian.wordpress.com and twitter.com/bees_ja.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Book One
Book Two
Appendix
The Crows Her Dragon's Gate
Woman of the Sun, Woman of the Moon
Chang'e Dashes from the Moon
Acknowledgments
About the Author