by IGMS
Five days of fruitless inquiry left Yi Qin with an aching head. She was sitting in her room drinking tea when there was a diffident knock.
She had expected Ling Fan, but she was wrong. For a moment, she thought that there was nobody there; but then she looked down, and saw what had come to call.
It stood as tall as her hips and dripped with water. Its scales were green, and it had a shell like a turtle, and it had large, owlish eyes.
"Enter," she said, stepping back. It clumped awkwardly inside on round, short-clawed feet. She pushed the door gently closed.
"This one goes by the name of Pei Wo Po." The creature's voice was at odds with its appearance; light and musical. "This one has the honour to serve her Excellent Majesty of the Fourth Rank of Goddesses, Mi Liao Ma Sing."
Yi Qin bowed. It was not easy, to bow to a creature no more than half her height, with a strong resemblance to a turtle standing on its hind legs. She kept her face carefully blank.
"This one is Yi Qin," she answered, matching the emissary's deferent style. "This one has the honour to serve his Imperial Majesty the Emperor. This one is honoured that her petition has been heard, and answered. Is there something you need, with which this one might assist you?"
"This one needs nothing," the creature assured her. "This one's mistress wishes for you to receive a message. She cannot take Captain Zheng Fei into her care."
Yi Qin hoped that her face did not betray her disappointment.
"If that is the will of She Who Watches Over Those Who Do Not Return From The Sea, then this one must accept it."
"This one's mistress cannot take Captain Zheng Fei," the creature continued, "because his spirit is promised elsewhere."
"Kai Bing," Yi Qin said, repressing a sigh. "The Captain seeks a woman named Kai Bing. But there is no one by that name." She did not add that it seemed absurd for a man's promise to his lover to take precedence over the claim of a goddess of the fourth rank.
"Your pardon, lady, but Captain Zheng Fei is not promised to a woman."
Yi Qin frowned.
"He is not? Then might I -- might this one ask, honoured emissary, to whom Zheng Fei is promised?"
"Of course. His soul is promised to Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou."
The pattern of the name told Yi Qin what she needed to know, though it was not what she wanted to hear. For a moment, she did not speak; she merely looked into the large, liquid eyes of Pei Wo Po.
"Does this one understand that Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou is a fox-spirit?" She hoped she was wrong; she feared she was not.
The emissary's head inclined in affirmation.
"Just so," she said. "If you would release Captain Zheng Fei to the care of this one's esteemed mistress, then you must petition Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou. Should the promise be broken, then this one's mistress will take Captain Zheng Fei, and his crew, into her care."
Yi Qin said nothing.
A petition to a fox-spirit.
A plea to a creature of utter caprice, driven by whim, seeking only amusement.
As well plead to the tide not to rise and fall.
4. A Heart, Offered
She arose early next morning. To summon a fox-spirit was no simple undertaking; it took several hours to gather the necessary ingredients. When she had packed them all carefully together, she left Pangxiao by the northern road, up to a notch in the ridge. There, she struck off the road, scrambling over rocks, looking for a secluded hollow, where she might chant the words she needed to chant, burn the incense she needed to burn, and kill the bird she needed to kill.
She unrolled a small mat and arranged the incense pot, and the caged bird, and the scroll, and the knife; then she sat down, cross-legged, and began.
When she had chanted, and when the air was acrid with incense, and when the blood of the caged bird had quenched the fire under the incense pot, she waited for a gleam of utter whiteness, or a soulless laugh.
She did not wait long. Something moved at the corner of her vision -- something utterly without colour, something so brilliant that it was impossible to look at directly. Yi Qin closed her eyes, just for a moment. When she opened them again, she was not alone. A woman stood before her; tall and slender, with translucent skin, pure white hair, and cold blue eyes. Despite her paleness, she was very beautiful. Yi Qin could imagine a man falling in love with her, instantly and utterly. Or something a man would mistake for love, at least.
"I am Yi Qin, of Deng Wei Province," Yi Qin said. "I summon you, but I do not wish to bind you."
"The one makes you brave; the other makes you wise," the woman said. She did not make it sound like a compliment. "I am Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou. Ah, Yi Qin. You are spoken of, in certain places."
Yi Qin did not care to consider what might be said in such conversations.
"Forgive me, spirit, but I would rather we discuss the matter of Captain Zheng Fei."
"Ah! The bold sea captain."
"Just so. I do not presume to ask how he came to love you, in mortal guise." She did not want to know. "But it seems that Zheng Fei swore an oath. Now he returns to Pangxiao from the ocean floor, with all his crew."
The woman in white smiled. Her teeth were small and pointed. Her eyes were the pale blue of a frozen waterfall. The pale blue of a ghost ship.
"Such devotion, from one brief night. Like a faithful dog."
"Faithful dogs are rewarded for their loyalty."
"Sometimes," Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou said, laughing. "And sometimes they receive a kick instead. Yet they stay faithful. How amusing!"
Yi Qin did not think it was amusing. She tried not to let that -- or anything else -- show on her face.
"Is amusement so important, Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou?"
"I have lived for centuries," the fox-spirit answered. "Were you to live so long, little mortal, you would find that all else fades. In the end, there is only amusement, and nothing more."
"Were I to find myself so diminished," Yi Qin said, keeping her voice conversationally light, "I think I would seek my own death."
The fox-spirit laughed.
"You are bold. Remember: you do not always find what you seek, Yi Qin."
"Just so. Sometimes, that which we desire is denied us."
The blue eyes narrowed then, and Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou no longer looked beautiful, or human.
"Do you think to take my captain from me?"
"The Emperor, my master, commands me. I can only obey."
"I will not permit it."
Yi Qin bowed her head.
"You must do, Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou, what you think best. And I will do the same."
"And I will win," the fox-spirit said, smiling. "I always win."
There was a blur of painful whiteness, and Yi Qin was alone.
Yi Qin sat in the Harbourmaster's office, with Ling Fan standing to her side and Guang Er behind his desk, gruff and sour as always.
"I have made . . . certain progress," she announced.
"How much progress? Tomorrow is the eighth night. Will the ghost ship come?"
"It will come," she said, quietly.
"Then what is this progress you speak of?"
"I know why Captain Zheng Fei comes to Pangxiao. I know who he seeks."
"We all know that! But there is no such woman!"
"Just so," Yi Qin agreed. "Kai Bing is but the guise of another. Captain Zheng Fei lost his heart to her. And she will not come to him. She finds it . . . amusing."
"Amusing?" Guang Er repeated it with heavy emphasis. "Who is this woman? We must . . ."
"No woman," she interrupted. "She is a fox-spirit. Fox-spirits are . . . known for their inconstancy. A day will come when she will forget Zheng Fei and his vow. But that day may be a lifetime away."
"A fox-spirit?" Guang Er asked, his voice as distrustful as ever. "I have heard that they feast on the hearts of men."
"I do not doubt it. They can be cruel. And they acknowledge no master, no Emperor, no demon, no God. They are as capricious as the weather
."
"Well then, conjuror. You must command this fox-spirit to release Zheng Fei from his vow."
"Command? I can not command a fox-spirit. She would laugh in my face, and I would be fortunate if that were all she did. No, there is no prospect of commanding Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou. Nor, I think, can we persuade or bargain with her. I have tried this, and have not succeeded. So there is one course of action left."
"And that is?"
"Zheng Fei calls for Kai Bing. He does not call for Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou. He does not know. When he made his vow, he thought she was a mortal woman. He did not know what it would mean to promise himself to such a creature."
"What does that matter? The vow is made, and we are the ones who suffer for it," Guang Er said.
"The vow is made. Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou will not rescind it. But a vow can always be broken by the one who made it. I must persuade Captain Zheng Fei that he will never regain his love, because she is an immortal creature, incapable of love. I must break this ghost's heart."
"Does a ghost even have a heart?" Ling Fan asked.
"In the case of Captain Zheng Fei, I think it is all he has left," she answered.
"Then . . . isn't breaking it . . . hazardous?" His concern was palpable.
"More than you would care to know," Yi Qin said. Much more than you would ever care to know, she did not add aloud.
5. Brass And Blood
She had the mat, and the scroll, and the incense pot, and the caged bird. There was one more thing.
"Do you have," Yi Qin asked, "a brass bowl?"
"Um, I think so. How big?" Ling Fan asked.
"A handspan across, perhaps, and as deep."
"I shall see. Um, what is it for . . .?"
Yi Qin did not look at the constable.
"Blood," she said, quietly.
He hurried out.
Yi Qin slid off her overdress, revealing a sleeveless tunic. Deft and one-handed, she unfastened the sheath of darts from her left forearm and laid it on the table. She took a strip of leather and wrapped it just above her elbow, twisting it until her fingers throbbed. Then she took a small brass tube, like a short hollow reed with one end filed to a point, from its place in a lacquered box.
"This is all I could find," Ling Fan said, entering. He bore a brass bowl, not very much smaller than Yi Qin's head. She looked at it.
"It will serve," she told him. "Place it on the table, if you would."
He did as she asked. Then she took the brass tube and placed it carefully into the crook of her left elbow. With a sharp exhalation, she jabbed the tube through the skin and into the vein.
"Ancestors . . ." Ling Fan breathed, and made the Second Sign.
"Conjuring requires blood," Yi Qin said. "You have seen this already."
He was staring, watching the crimson liquid flow out from the brass tube, dripping steadily into the bowl.
"You just pricked your hand, before," he said.
"And that was not enough, so I must use more." She was flexing her fingers while keeping her arm still. The blood dripped into the bowl in time with her heartbeats.
"This will . . . this will allow you to banish the ghosts?"
"No . . . or at least, I very much doubt it. But for a time, it may hold them."
"And you will speak to the Captain, and tell him the truth?"
Yi Qin watched the blood, and did not look at Ling Fan.
"It is possible that I may persuade Zheng Fei. But it is not likely. I fear he will listen to only one voice -- that of Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou."
"Ah! You will summon her?"
"I have summoned her once, without binding her. I cannot compel her again; she may choose to come, or not. And fox-spirits are not easily fooled."
"Then how . . ." his voice trailed off as he stared at the bowl. "You don't mean for me to . . .?"
"No, Ling Fan. You will stay here, as before. This is my task, and mine alone."
"Then . . . I do not understand."
"Who better to summon Shou Kai Shou Bing Shou," she said, still not looking at the constable, "than the man who loves her?"
Leaden clouds hung low over the ocean. The water was a deep, foam-flecked grey. With Ling Fan at her side, carefully carrying the brass bowl, Yi Qin stepped out onto the wharf. She laid down her bundle: the mat, the scroll, the incense pot, the bird in its cage. Then she dipped her fingers in the bowl and drew the Fifth Unspoken Word on the first post; then moved in turn to each of the others, until all eight were marked with the same powerful glyph.
She felt numb, and cold. There was a neat bandage tied round her arm where she had pierced the vein; but no bandage could compensate for the blood she had lost.
"It is time for you to go, Ling Fan," she called out, gently. She held out her hand for the bowl.
"If there is anything else . . ."
"You have done all I could have asked. You may be sure that when I make my report to the Emperor, I will praise your diligence."
Ling Fan gave her the bowl. It felt very heavy; but she knew it was the brass, not the blood, that made it so. Much of the blood had already been daubed onto the posts. Only a sluggish pool remained.
The ghost junk approached the wharf, serene and untouched. Yi Qin could see Zheng Fei, standing on the afterdeck, with his broad hat upon his head. She waited, patient and weary, as the patchwork vessel slid alongside the wharf. The gangplank thudded down.
Yi Qin looked up at Zheng Fei. The dead captain looked back at her.
"Conjuror. I told you not to come to me again unless you brought me Kai Bing. I do not see her at your side."
"You do not," Yi Qin agreed.
"And I told you what I would do if you tried to stop me."
"You did," she said.
He bellowed an order. The crew answered his shout with one of their own. They surged down the gangplank . . .
. . . and drew up short, as if there were a wall between the posts of the wharf. They pressed against it, blue light pouring off of them. Red smoke roiled from the blood-stained wood. Yi Qin dipped her fingers into the brass bowl and lifted them, thick with clotted carmine, to show Zheng Fei.
"My spells are stronger this time," she told him. "Your men may not step ashore."
"You are but one woman. I have a score of men. I know something of magic, little conjuror. How much blood is in that bowl? How long can your wards hold?"
"Long enough," she said. "For we shall talk, Captain Zheng Fei. We shall not fight, like squabbling children. We shall talk."
"Talk? Of what? You know what I desire!"
"And I will help you find her," Yi Qin said.
There was silence.
"Why should I trust you?" The ghost growled out the words like a sullen bear disturbed from hibernation.
"Because I will put myself in your power. I will step off this wharf and onto your vessel."
She waited for his answer. It came in a barked command to the crew. They backed away from the posts.
"Board. If you betray me, know that you will never leave my ship again."
"I am not your betrayer," she answered, and picked up her bundle. She climbed aboard.
6. Aboard The Ship Of Ghosts
The ghost ship was cold, and there was a terrible emptiness, a hunger all around her that no blood could assuage, that no warmth could dispel. She climbed to the raised afterdeck. The Captain's dead face was not a pleasant thing to be so close to. Behind her the crew waited on the main deck.
"Your lover," she told the captain as she unrolled the mat, "is not human. She is a fox-spirit. She toyed with you. She finds your loyalty amusing." She placed the brass bowl carefully beside the mat, and the small incense burner, and the cage with its fluttering bird.
"I warned you. Do not lie to me!"
"I am not lying to you." Yi Qin lit the incense burner with a drop of blood -- a simple application of the First Unspoken Word. "Can you read, Zheng Fei?"
"I am not illiterate," he growled.
"Then re
ad this scroll," she said, passing it to him. He took it. When his fingers brushed hers, a cold jolt ran up her arm, numbing it. "Read it, and then kill the bird. And your lover will come to you."
"This is some trick," he said.
"This is no trick."
"Then you do it."
"I am not the one who loves her." Her patience was being worn away by the cold -- a cold of the spirit, not of the body. She was almost across the borderland, more in the land of the dead than of the living.
The ghost captain looked at the scroll for a long time. Yi Qin breathed deep; the acrid, unpleasant incense at least reminded her she was not dead.
Yet.
"No," he said. "This is a trick. You want me to read something I don't understand? A magic spell? You take me for a fool!"
"You are a fool," Yi Qin said. "A fool for a woman who is not a woman, and who cares nothing for you. But you leave me no choice."
She dipped her right hand into the bowl, hoping there was still enough blood.
The captain bellowed a command, but there was only one ladder to the afterdeck. Yi Qin was there already, practised fingers deftly sketching the necessary sign. Power flared. A crimson mist seemed to hang in the air like a wall.
There was a terrible cold pain in her back. She stumbled, rolled over to look up at the captain. His sword was in his hand.
If it had been the sword of a living man, she would have been run through. But the sword of a ghost was no less deadly, in its own way.
"I told you! You'll sail with my crew, conjuror!"
He brought the blade down. She rolled aside, tugging free the knife from her belt as she did so. He laughed, which gave her time at least to get to her feet.
"You think to fight a dead man with that? You're the fool here! No blade can touch a ghost!"
"It isn't for you," she told him.
And ran the blade along her arm.
Normally, blood would have gushed forth from such a cut. But too much of her blood had already been spent. It barely oozed, slow and sullen, from her protesting veins.
She prayed it would be enough.
As the Captain swung his sword, she dropped the knife and stepped, not away from the blow, but into, it. The fingers of her right hand dragged through the blood and continued onward to touch Captain Zheng Fei's forehead.