“I see. Such an adorable turtle. No wonder you were so excited,” I said. “Did you feed Oriole, Apricot?”
“Chunlu did,” Apricot said. “I took Hong to see the physicians.”
“What was wrong?” I felt my boy’s hands.
“He had a fever earlier, Luminous Lady.”
“Fever?” I was sorry I had not been there when he had needed me. But Hong was laughing and squealing with pleasure as the turtle flipped over in his hand. “What did the physicians say?”
“They said it was the weather. We must keep the doors shut when he naps.”
“Did he nap?”
“In my arms.”
I was glad. At least he got some sleep.
Pheasant called out for me. I gave Hong to Apricot. “Bring him to me when he finishes with the turtle.” I felt my chest tighten. I was leaking milk. Time to feed Oriole.
“Yes, Luminous Lady.” Apricot swallowed, and her face turned red. She still had the tendency to blush when she grew nervous. “There is something I need to tell you, Luminous Lady… It’s not important, I think.”
I waved. “Then tell me later, Apricot. Watch Hong and make sure he doesn’t fall in the creek and hurt himself.”
“But…Luminous Lady…it’s just…”
Pheasant’s voice rang out again, sounding frantic.
“Later, Apricot.” I hurried down the trail. “I must go now.”
Quickly, I reached my bedchamber and pushed the door open. It was warm inside, and the fire was burning in the brazier. I was glad, for Oriole could catch a cold easily if we were not careful.
“You were right, Pheasant, it was only a turtle. I was so worried,” I said. My feet kicked at one of Hong’s lacquered wooden horses on the ground, and I bent over to pick it up. “So what is it? Why did you call me like that? I ran all the way here to the bedchamber. Is Oriole awake? Did she throw up on you?”
“Wh…what?” Pheasant was standing by the bed where Oriole was sleeping. “No… I mean throwing up… And yes… She is…”
“Then pick her up. Don’t just stand there.” He adored Oriole, but if she soiled herself or wet his hand, he would act in such a way one would think the barbarians had encroached our Great Wall. “I thought you saw a ghost, calling me like that.”
Lying on the ground near Hong’s horses was Oriole’s favorite doll, dressed in a yellow gown. She had round cheeks and hair shaped like bunny ears. Another present from Pheasant. Girls needed dolls, he had said repeatedly. I picked it up too and put the toys on the dresser. My maids should have taken better care of the toys rather than leave them on the floor, but I could not blame them. Tidying up the room, with two little children, required constant effort. Even a maid needed a break.
“I…I…”
There was something strange about him. I turned to him. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” He jolted, as though he had fallen asleep and I had awoken him. “I’m fine… But Oriole… I don’t know… I think… I…don’t know… Mei… You have to… She is…”
Something unspeakable, something frightening, wormed its way inside me. “What do you mean?” I pushed him aside and looked down at the bed. The room was dim with the smoke from the brazier, but I could see Oriole was lying below the embroidered pillow, her head tilted to the wall, her cheek touching the blanket I had knitted. “She is fine, you see, Pheasant? Let me get her.”
I bent over and put my hand underneath her. I had told Pheasant many times to support Oriole’s head when she was younger, and now that she was almost six months old, I was still accustomed to supporting her neck.
“Don’t pick her up.” Pheasant sounded desperate. “Don’t—”
“Why not?” I picked up my daughter. I could see her face now. Her black eyes, wide open, were staring at me. “When did you wake up, baby girl? Are you hungry, sweet Oriole? Come…” My breath caught in my throat.
Usually, she would turn her head the moment she heard my voice. She would kick her legs, fling her arms out, or even smack her lips and babble, excited about suckling. Not today. She did not turn to face me, did not kick her legs. She did not babble. Her head was still turned to the wall, her arms at her sides. She did not do anything.
I turned her head toward me. She felt different. She was heavier somehow and harder. Her skin was pale like a pool of white candle wax, as though my maid had powdered her, and there was something wrong with her eyes. She was staring at me strangely… Those eyes… They were looking at me, but not seeing me… Those eyes… They were hers but did not look like they belonged to her. I blinked, then blinked again.
Someone caught my arm. “Mei…” There were tears in Pheasant’s eyes.
“What’s this? Pheasant? What’s going on? What is this, Pheasant?”
“Mei…”
“I don’t understand.” I felt her hand, which had slipped out of the robe’s sleeve. Cold. I felt her feet. Cold. I held her tight to my heart. She did not move. I shivered, then shivered again. “I don’t understand…”
They had fed her, they told me. And she had suckled this morning. She had burped loudly, flinging her arms and kicking her legs, those strong legs, striking against the bed. She had grabbed Hong’s toy. And…the fire was blazing! The room was warm. She should be warm!
Pheasant was weeping, pulling his hair, shouting something, but I could not understand a word. My head felt as though it were splitting. A wall of darkness cloaked me, and the ground was rising and dipping like an imbalanced scale. The bed slid beside me, and Pheasant blurred.
Something hot ran into my eyes. I wiped it away furiously and held my baby tight. I rocked her. I rocked her back and forth. Back and forth. She always liked it when I rocked her. She always opened her mouth, giggling with pleasure.
“Put her down, Mei. Put her down…” A hand covered Oriole’s face.
“No, no, no! Don’t touch her! Don’t touch her!” I slapped the hand and held my child tighter. “Smile, smile, Oriole, my little girl, my treasure, my precious heart…smile…”
But she remained still. She remained frozen.
I buried my face in her chest. My throat was burning, my eyes were burning, my head was burning. But this could not be happening. This must be a dream. I was drunk. I was stupid. I was crazy. I should not have drunk so much wine. I should not have drunk at all…
I just wanted her to look at me. I just wanted her to kick her legs. I just wanted her to say something, to cry or throw a tantrum. But around me rose all sorts of groans, weeps, and frantic cries, and none of them belonged to my Oriole.
“Luminous Lady… Luminous Lady…”
Chunlu’s voice. Then Apricot’s. Suddenly my arms were empty. I jumped, frantic. “My baby. My baby. Give her back to me. Give her to me!”
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I was trying to tell you… Luminous Lady… She had come to visit…”
What was she talking about? I tried to ask, but the hot air plunged into my throat like a spear, cutting my lips and tongue, and I could not think. “Oriole! My baby! Where is she? Give her to me! Give her to me!”
“What are you talking about, Apricot?” Pheasant’s voice.
The figure before me dropped to the floor, and all the others fell too. They seemed to tremble, like a huge wind chime struck by a powerful club. Their black hair swelled, and their white gowns piled on the floor, looking like funeral tents fluttering in a gust. “She… The Empress was here… She…she said she wished to see Oriole…”
Nothing was making sense. Why would that evil woman come to see my infant? She had cursed my Hong when he was born, and she had cursed Oriole too when she was born. She had forbidden the three Ladies to visit me, and there was no reason why she would come here to see my child herself.
“Why did she wish to see Oriole?” Pheasant asked.
“We don’t know, Your Maje
sty.”
“When did she come?”
“Before noon, Your Majesty.”
“What did she say? What did she do?”
“I do not know, Your Majesty… She asked to be alone with Oriole… When she left, she was in a hurry.”
It still did not make sense. The Empress feared no one. She had no reason to run away. She would not run. That woman was without fear and had too much hate.
Pheasant howled, his voice filled with pain and fury, and the figures before me sobbed, trembling violently. But I still could not understand what all these meant. My mind was not working. It was heavy, frozen, dark, and unable to function. Then suddenly, a thought, sharp and flinty, penetrated me like an arrow. My eyes burned, and a surge of fire, catching my thoughts, turning them into raging flames, burst in my abdomen.
The Empress killed my child! The Empress killed my child! The Empress killed my child!
28
I shoved Pheasant aside and ran out of the chamber, out of the courtyard, out of the garden. I wanted to set the sky on fire. I wanted to split the ground in half. I wanted to pound the walls into ashes. I wanted to tear that woman apart and devour her. Alive.
“Where is she? Where is she?” That heartless woman! That devil! That plague! Death to her! Death to her family of five generations! How could she hurt my child? She was only six months old! She was capable only of suckling and kicking. How dare she have the heart to choke that little innocent life?
The path ahead of me twisted, treacherous, like the child murderer. Now and then it wound around, testing me, blocking me, stopping me. Skeletal branches whipped my shoulders, thorny bushes cut my knees, chilly wind slashed my face, and hard dirt stabbed my eyes. I flung my arms out. Hateful trees! Loathsome wind! Out of my way. Out! Out!
The ground slammed into my face. Something salty poured on my lips. I swallowed it, struggling to rise. Behind me, people were chasing me, crying out for me, and their footfalls rolled like thunder.
“Mei! Mei! Come back!”
“Luminous Lady, Luminous Lady, wait, wait!”
What did they want? To stop me? They should know better. They could not stop me. Nothing could stop me.
I pulled myself up and ran. My skirt was slowing me down. With one yank, I tore it off and kept running. One corner, another, and another. One pavilion, another, and another. One pond, another… I was closer. I could see the red walls in the distance, and the corner of the blue flying eaves of that woman’s nest.
I sped up. And then suddenly, I fell, and water…water was everywhere, up to my knees, into my mouth, and into my eyes…
I screamed. A taste, silky, stale, salty, like moss, poured down my throat and thrust into my eyes. I could not breathe or see. I shook my head, and I could sense a cave of water, sinister and oozing, pale and glistening, gliding to swallow me. It was whispering, an oily sound, a wicked sound. Die…die…die… I punched, I flung, I spun, but it began to touch me with a thousand fat feet of a monster, sticky and slimy, reaching into my mouth and squeezing my heart. Oh, that wicked woman!
Something strong gripped my arms and pulled me out. I gulped, feeling the fresh, open air. Oh, what a relief to lose the grip of those fat feet, to lose that taste of moss, and to escape the prison of the stealthy, slimy water.
But it was not fair.
Why must she die and not me?
“You’re safe. You’re safe. It’s all right. It’s all right.” Pheasant’s voice, but he looked so far away, and even this sound that had been the rope of my life had lost its appeal.
I swatted him away. It was not all right. It would never be all right. “Let me go, let me go!”
I would not be stopped. I had to get my hands on the Empress, but someone was holding me tight, someone else was dabbing my face, and yet another was wringing my sleeves. I wanted them to stop all the nonsense. I was alive, but what was the good of being alive if I could not avenge my child?
“I’ve sent men to arrest her.” Pheasant’s face appeared before me. “Fifty armed men are bringing her to us as we speak. I swear to my ancestors, Mei. We will get her.”
His voice was hoarse, and his promise should have been comforting, but I was not satisfied. “I must get her now. I must get her myself.” I stood but swayed and splashed back into the pond.
He put his arms around me. “You nearly drowned, Mei. Let me take you back.”
“No, no!” He was lifting me up. “Let me go!”
But he did not listen to me.
No one did.
Nothing did.
Not even my legs or my arms.
And from Pheasant’s shoulder, the world looked demented. The trees were uprooted, people were dropping like dead birds, and the sky was sinking.
• • •
My teeth chattered, and my eyes were burning. Since I had no choice but to wait, I had to wait here, at the entrance of the garden, where I could catch the first glimpse of the child killer and stare into the hateful eyes of the murderer, the last person whom my daughter had gazed at.
The sky dimmed to a sickening gray. The wind howled, and it began to snow. Large flakes tumbled from the sky like dead moths, covering the pebbled path and sticking to the branches. I hated snow. So deceptive it was. It struck you in silence and swallowed you up just as you thought everything was fine again.
A creature was circling above the treetops. Was it the vulture that had stared at me when I arrived at the garden? Had that been today? It seemed it had been an eon ago. Was the vulture sent by my enemy to watch me? Did it smell the odor of death that was spilled by my enemy? Did it crave my child’s blood?
The guards recounted what had happened. The Empress had come to my garden before the sun moved to the treetops; by then, she must have heard of Pheasant’s announcement to divorce her. But the guards did not know. She had carried a basket of apples. Gifts for the children, she had said. The guards had hesitated, but she had come without her personal guards, and she was smiling, so they let her in.
She also brought some gifts for my maids and nannies: two vests trimmed with silk, two scarves made of fox fur, two pairs of boots made of deer leather, two pairs of jade earrings, two sachets filled with dried mint leaves and cloves, and two bottles of jasmine oil. A pair of everything, for the sake of auspiciousness, she said. While her maids were distributing the gifts, showing the presents to my maids, the Empress went into the chamber and asked to be alone. It was a short visit. When she came out, my maids were still trying on the leather boots.
Hong had been sick, so Apricot took him to see the imperial physicians before the Empress had arrived. It was fortunate, perhaps. If he had been here… But perhaps things would have been different if Apricot had been in the garden. Apricot would not have been distracted by the presents. She would have been cautious. She would have watched the Empress, and she would not have left the Empress alone. And Oriole would still be alive.
But perhaps I should never have gone to the Audience Hall… I should never have left my garden… I should have taken my daughter with me…
That child killer was still not here. Why was it taking so long?
Xiayu, holding an umbrella, came to stand beside me, and Apricot dabbed at something on my face. My lips were swollen, and my face was cut, she said. Would I let her clean me?
I did not answer.
Qiushuang put a fur coat over my shoulders. My gown was soaked with water, and she asked me to go inside and get changed.
I did not respond. Did she not understand? Nothing could keep me warm. No. I would not change my clothes. No. I would not go anywhere. My daughter’s killer was going to arrive any minute.
They tugged at me again.
“Leave me alone!” I said, my voice a low growl. They lowered their heads and looked down at their toes. They were frightened. They should be. How could they leave the Empress alone? Did
they not know how evil she was? And Apricot, why did it take her so long to see the physicians? She was the chief maid. She should have returned as soon as possible.
“It’s cold here. Come inside, Mei,” Pheasant said. He had stood with me for a long time. He had tried to hold me, but I shook his hands off. I did not look at him or speak to him either. There was nothing to say. He had tried to make a difference, and this was the difference he had given us. If he had not declared his intention to divorce the Empress so tactlessly, she would not have been so angry, and my child would still be alive.
I should not blame him. He did not know that woman was capable of murder, and he was only doing what he thought best. But our daughter was dead. What could we say now? He thought he could assert his will, he thought he could take back his hall by force and control his fate, but really, could he ever control anyone? Even himself?
And was I any better? I had never been in command of anything, but why did I always believe I could be? Why did I believe I could fight against the Regent and the Empress? Where did that belief come from? They had taken away my most cherished friend, and they had taken away my child.
I was a fool.
We were fools.
We would never be the same, think the same, or feel the same again, and there was nothing we could do about it.
I heard the sound of crunching gravel and jerked my head. Nothing. Only the empty path painted by the night’s dark hand. Only flurries of snow.
I hated waiting and doing nothing. Why must I wait? Why could I not give an order like a man and go kill her like a man?
The fur cape felt heavy on my shoulders. I wanted to shake it off, but I could not move my arms. They did not feel like they were part of my body; they felt like two dried branches of a dying tree, and like the tree, I did not feel hot or cold, I could not cry or bleed, I could not swallow or breathe, and like the tree, I was hollow inside.
Empress of Bright Moon Page 26