by Cindy Pon
Stone dropped his hand after a moment and tilted his head. Her breath caught, he was so handsome. Frightening in his perfection. “I have healed you, but the scar remains.”
Her hand flew to her cheek, and she felt the raised scar, a smooth painless ridge across her face. “Who—what are you?”
Despite his impassive features, she didn’t miss the wry humor that touched his eyes. “A thank you would have sufficed.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled, her fingers still pressed to her cheek.
He caught her wrist and drew it aside. His touch was always gentle, but firm. She suspected he rarely needed brute strength. “You’re more beautiful now because of the scar. It emphasizes the symmetry of your face.”
Skybright pulled her arm back and rolled her eyes to the night sky. All this talk of beauty. Did beauty help her make beds neatly or apply Zhen Ni’s cosmetics with more expertise? Beauty did nothing to make her a better handmaid—and only caused trouble in other areas.
Stone chuckled, and the humanness of the sound surprised her. “You think it is frivolous?” He draped an elbow across his knee, still managing to appear majestic while hunched in front of her. “The beauty of your kind is precise and deliberate. Specially crafted to suit your purpose.”
Seductress. Temptress. Murderer.
“What is my purpose?” she asked.
He slanted his head and scrutinized her for so long she was certain he could see into her mind, read her thoughts. “I do not know. You are unique. I have met none other like you.” He pressed a hand into the dirt and the air filled with the pungent scent of earth and deep roots. “You do not behave as I would expect from a serpent demon … like your mother did. She preyed and killed men with such finesse. She perfected it to an art form. You, I have only seen you kill the undead.” He chuckled again, amused for some reason.
“Is that … wrong?”
“Wrong?” He lifted his broad shoulders. “There is an endless supply of undead as long as there are human corpses. But you take pleasure in killing them. I find that interesting.”
Stone was right. She did take pleasure in killing them. He had spies everywhere, he had said. Did he see everything that she did? He seemed to read her so easily. She didn’t like that. It put her at an even greater disadvantage during their exchanges. Then she almost laughed aloud at herself, because she was trying to outwit an immortal.
“Do you know where my mother is?” She wanted answers that only he could give.
“Opal.” The way he spoke her name was weighted, but with no emotion she could identify. “It is difficult for me to gauge time in human years. But our paths have not crossed since she became pregnant with you.” He continued to twist the earth with one bare hand, and it vibrated with life—she felt it through the large rock she sat on. “You are sixteen or seventeen years?”
“I just turned sixteen.”
Stone nodded, thoughtful. “She was well when I last saw her. Eager for her next kill. How she became with child will always be a mystery. It is supposed to be an impossibility.” He paused. “To be truthful, I do not believe she survived the birth.”
She recoiled, not knowing how to feel. “Why?”
“I have not sensed her presence in this realm for some time, Skybright. It is as if she winked out of existence.”
She dropped her head into her hands. She was so tired. Tired of not knowing why she had turned into a serpent demon, tired of hurting those she cared for because of what she was. Tired of lying. Tired of hiding. Her feet hurt and her legs ached. She felt empty inside.
Stone lifted her chin with one hand. “May I?”
Skybright’s chest seized. He wanted to kiss her and had only asked as a courtesy. But she realized she wanted to, was curious to see what it would feel like to kiss an immortal. He continued to cup her chin in his warm hand and tilted his face, pressing his perfect, sensuous mouth against hers. His lips were hot, as if he had a fever, and she caught too long a glimpse into his infinite eyes. She closed her own, head spinning.
Then it felt as if she literally leaped into a well of rushing starlight, both hot and cool, and she was plunging endlessly into its brightness, exultant, cradled within its vast glow.
Suddenly she slammed back into herself, bulky and weighted. Stone had pulled away, studying her. She gulped for air as her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. She gripped the rock’s edge, trying to steady herself.
“That was not what I expected,” he said.
Skybright barked a short, strangled laugh. “Nor I. Do you kiss all the serpent demons you meet?” Then she blanched at the thought that he might have kissed her mother. And more.
Stone cocked one black eyebrow and stood, pulling her up with him. He didn’t release her hand until she was firm on her feet. “Walk with me,” he said. Again, it was more a command than a request. She wanted to say no just for the pleasure of refusing him, but did not.
It was full dark now, but the forest seemed to light a path for Stone as he weaved amongst the giant cypresses. As elaborate and heavy as his armor appeared, he made no noise as he walked, treading lightly. He kept his stride short, so she could walk beside him. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder.
“Why do you befriend me?” Skybright asked after a long silence.
“Because you intrigue me.” He paused. “Because you are Opal’s daughter.”
“You have a history with my mother? Did you … love her?” Her stomach knotted to be asking such intimate questions. But she had to know.
Stone did not answer immediately, and she swallowed, wondering if she’d gone too far. “I am incapable of love, Skybright. And my history is as endless as the evening sky.” He stopped and she turned, drawn to him like the pointer on a compass. “But I did admire her. I cared for her in my own way. Mortals are too bound by their emotions, caged by them. They lead their entire lives ruled by emotions, by ephemeral feelings called love or hate, jealousy or desire. They make choices and do things on a whim, swayed by those emotions.”
“And you feel none of these things?” she asked.
He gave a slight shake of his head. “I am too far removed. You do not live as long as I have, and survive, by feeling deeply. I sometimes wonder, from my observations, if mortals do not often die from broken hearts.”
“That sounds rather poetic, coming from you.”
He threw his head back and laughed, again catching her off guard by how human he sounded.
“So you wouldn’t understand why I search for my mistress?” she asked. Did Stone know where Zhen Ni was? Would he offer to help her?
“I do. Because I have searched for your mother.”
Skybright opened her mouth, then closed it again, stunned into silence. Stone was a complete enigma to her, even if he seemed to speak truthfully.
“With regret, I must leave you now. There is much I need to attend to,” he said, leaning in. And for one terrible and thrilling moment, she thought he would kiss her again. “A peaceful evening,” he said, and vanished.
The forest dimmed in his absence, along with the pungent scent of deep earth.
Skybright had never felt so alone.
Skybright wandered back to the travel lantern, grateful for the small beam of light it gave to guide her. As forthright as Stone seemed to be with his answers, she still knew so little about him. Was he of the underworld? An immortal demon? Had he and her mother been lovers? She perched back on the rock and withdrew Zhen Ni’s handkerchief from her knapsack, running her palm across the smooth silk.
She studied the crooked dragonfly on the handkerchief and smiled. It truly was terrible embroidering. But Zhen Ni had lit up when Skybright gave her the gift, pressing it against her chest before giving Skybright a hug. “I’ll keep it with me always,” Zhen Ni had said.
Skybright scowled, an attempt to force the tears away. Instinctively, she pressed the silk to her nose. It smelled of faint jasmine, and something deep within
her chest stirred. She jumped to her feet and stripped, tucking her clothes neatly into her knapsack before shifting within two breaths into serpent form. She lifted the handkerchief to her nose again and her forked tongue darted out. An impression of her mistress still lingered in the silk and she sensed her like a mild taste at the back of her throat. She gathered her belongings and slithered through the dark trees, guided by that subtle connection, clutching the handkerchief in one hand. There was still hope of catching up with her, if she was certain of the path Zhen Ni had taken.
She traveled all night, using the connection that tugged her toward her mistress. Skybright thought over what Stone had told her about her mother—that she might be dead. She wouldn’t feel regret or loss, not now, not when she still felt so conflicted over everything that had happened to her in these past weeks, since she changed. Why did she even exist, when Stone said it wasn’t meant to be possible? She was a fluke, an aberrant mix of mortal and underworld. And she had no one to guide her except for Stone, whose intentions she couldn’t gauge, and whom she could never fully trust. But she had little choice, for he was the only one who knew what she truly was.
Except for Kai Sen. And that was why she would probably never see him again.
Skybright followed her mistress’s trail through Shi Lin, never ceasing, until past midday, when the faint taste in her throat bloomed into something much stronger. She skidded to a stop, her coils gathering behind her in a sinuous line. Zhen Ni was near. Skybright changed back to a girl, and was instantly bowled over by hunger, thirst and exhaustion. She gulped water from her flask and dressed, then stumbled on her feet, calling for her mistress. Skybright took large bites of dried beef as she walked on wobbling legs, unable to run. Being in human form was so inconvenient.
She’d lost the strong connection she had to Zhen Ni after she shifted. Tripping over a tree root, Skybright propped herself against the trunk, breathing heavily, blinking the bright spots away. She had felt her mistress near, and she refused to lose her when they were so close.
“Mistress!” She straightened, determined, and pushed herself off the tree. “It’s me! Skybright.”
There was a noise in the brush to her left, and Skybright went toward it, but lurched and fell to her knees. Frustrated, she wanted to scream. Zhen Ni’s eyes peered over the foliage, and relief flooded her. “Mistress!”
Zhen Ni emerged through the riot of branches and prickly leaves, looking even grimier than Skybright felt. She had never seen her mistress so unkempt. “Skybright, is it truly you?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Skybright pulled herself to her feet and the two girls fell into each other’s arms, hugging tight, both crying onto the other’s shoulder. Finally, her mistress drew back, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “How did you find me?”
“I ran all night.” Skybright paused and swallowed. “I prayed to the gods for a miracle, mistress. We are all so worried for you. Your mother’s devastated.”
Zhen Ni tensed, but then her face softened. “I only wanted to see Lan again. Make sure she was all right.”
“I know, mistress.” Skybright’s vision began to take a strange shine along the edges.
“You’re shaking, Sky! You’ve exhausted yourself searching for me.” Zhen Ni guided her to a giant cypress and made her sit against the gnarled trunk. “Have you not slept?”
“No. I needed to make up for lost time.”
“And I’d wager you haven’t eaten either.” Zhen Ni made disapproving tutting noises and Skybright leaned her head back against the tree, almost smiling. “Eat this,” Zhen Ni said, and passed a large bun to her. “It’s a day old but still delicious. Taro, your favorite.”
Skybright bit into it and sighed, chewing slowly, savoring the treat. When she finished, Zhen Ni passed her a flask filled with tea. She drank half the flask, comforted by the familiar scent of jasmine leaves.
“Mistress,” she finally said, after Zhen Ni was done fussing over her. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”
Her mistress folded a blanket into a rectangle and placed it on the ground, patting it so Skybright could use it for a pillow. “You’ve looked after me my entire life, Sky.” And Skybright suddenly realized that Zhen Ni had cared for her in turn, in her own way. “Sleep now, for a few hours. You need the rest.”
She laid her head down and didn’t argue, and was asleep before she heard Zhen Ni say anything else.
It was near dusk when Zhen Ni woke her with a gentle shake of her shoulder. The birds sang in a clash of melodies above them. Skybright stretched, feeling the ache and pull of her body, but when she sat up, she felt much more refreshed. Her mistress passed the tea flask to her again and she took two long sips. “Thank you, mistress.”
The two girls both lit their travel lanterns and huddled beneath the hulking tree. Skybright felt protected beneath its branches. “Have you been sleeping in the forest at night?”
Zhen Ni had her long legs drawn up, her knees tucked beneath her chin. She seemed even thinner than when she had left only a few days before. “I didn’t sleep the first night and rested a bit in one of the towns yesterday. But the men Mama sent in search for me almost found me, so I slept in the forest last night.”
“Weren’t you scared?”
“I was terrified. There are so many noises in the forest after dark.” Zhen Ni chewed her lower lip, and Skybright refrained from tapping her chin to stop her. “I’d think about seeing Lan again to give me courage.”
Skybright nodded. “I was in Chun Hua and spoke to that girl in the restaurant.”
“I’ve been lucky so far, with the one trip I’ve made into town for food. Everyone’s looking for me, with such a huge reward for my return.” Zhen Ni smiled ruefully. “Thankfully, no one is staring too hard at this dirty servant girl.”
Skybright laughed despite herself. “I think I’ve fared better than you have, mistress.”
“That’s so. But I’m in disguise.” Zhen Ni grinned, and Skybright glimpsed her mistress’s fierce spirit again, her determination. “I have to see Lan. I’ll go home after, but I must see her one more time. Just to make sure she’s all right.” Zhen Ni glanced toward a lantern, and Skybright saw that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “So I can say a proper goodbye.” Her mistress rubbed her face against her sleeve, then lifted it. “You’ll come with me?”
“Of course.” Skybright reached across the arcs of soft light between them for Zhen Ni’s hand. “We’ll send word to your family when we arrive at Lan’s house?”
“Yes, we can send word when we arrive.”
The girls shared a meal of salted biscuits, sugared walnuts, red dates, and a bruised apple and pear for dinner. Zhen Ni cut a taro bun she had with a dagger she kept at her waist, and gave half to Skybright. Skybright stared at the silver-handled knife, the length of her forearm, amazed her mistress owned anything so lethal. Zhen Ni, wiping the sharp blade against a cloth, grinned. “I stole it from Nanny Bai.” She tucked the dagger back into its sheath. “I couldn’t wander about alone without some sort of weapon.”
“I’m so glad I found you safe, mistress.” Skybright kicked at the dirt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better handmaid—a better friend to you in these last weeks.”
The small lanterns did nothing to disperse the dark shadows that enveloped them, and Zhen Ni’s eyes appeared even wider in their dim halos, too big for her thin face. “Nonsense, Sky. Here we are together again, on our most perilous adventure yet!” Her mistress squeezed her arm, and smiled. Skybright would feed Zhen Ni well when they returned to the Yuan manor, until those cheeks were rounded and flushed again.
They settled down, Zhen Ni’s back tucked into Skybright’s front, feeling safer for each other’s nearness, and chattered on about inconsequential things, until Zhen Ni fell asleep, drawing long, even breaths. Skybright listened to her mistress for some time— listened to the noises of the forest—before she finally closed her own eyes.
It wa
s the first full night of sleep Skybright had had in a long time, and she woke thick-headed. Zhen Ni had rolled away from her in the middle of the night and slept on her back, an arm flung out to the side. Her face was peaceful in the gray morning light, and she appeared young again, vulnerable. For when Zhen Ni was awake, she was alert and shrewd, her countenance tinged by a weariness and heartache in these past weeks that she was unable to hide.
Skybright began packing their few belongings and was ready to go when her mistress finally woke. “I can take us to the creek to wash up,” Skybright said. She then helped Zhen Ni to brush and plait her hair, pinning it close to her head the way Skybright wore it, in the style of a servant, before making the trek through the forest to the creek. The forest floor was a sea of ferns that reached as tall as their calves, and the girls picked their way carefully through it.
Skybright and Zhen Ni washed their faces, hands and feet at the creek, and rubbed coarse salt against their teeth. Then they studied Zhen Ni’s map, which was better rendered than Skybright’s, to see where they should head next.
“We need to buy more food. I’ve nothing left but a few biscuits and dates,” Skybright said. “I could go into the next town to restock.” She pointed at the map.
“We’ll be lucky if we make it there by evening,” Zhen Ni replied.
Skybright agreed. She’d be much faster in serpent form, but that was no longer a possibility. “Maybe we can risk boarding at an inn tonight.”
“Oh, I’d give anything for a hot bath.” Zhen Ni swept her hands across her dust stained tunic. “But I’m not sure if I can chance it.”
“They aren’t expecting another girl to be traveling with you.”
Her mistress smiled, hope coloring her cheeks. “That’s true.”
Using Skybright’s compass as a guide, they took as brisk a pace as they could through the forest, stopping in the late afternoon to nibble on a smoked sausage that Zhen Ni had wrapped in paper smeared with grease. She cut it in slices with her knife, and said, “This is all I’ve got left besides some dried dates I found at the bottom of my knapsack.”