by Cutter, Leah
Xiao Yen turned back to her horse. With a sigh, she folded another. Again her mind wandered, and the result showed it. Instead of standing on four solid feet, it was lopsided, the right foreleg longer than the back. Xiao Yen looked at the beast, turned it around in her hands. What was the use? If Wang Tie-Tie couldn't get her a contract, Fu Be Be would force her to get married. She doubted her husband would let her practice. That is, if her mother could find anyone who would want her, with her large shoulders, strong arms, and strange upbringing.
She pulled over the foreign language book Wang Tie-Tie had given her. Only a few of the folded pages had useful vocabulary. The rest were filled with colorful stories about the strange things foreigners did, like sleeping with their animals, rubbing themselves with bear fat before a battle, speaking out of their stomachs instead of their mouths. Xiao Yen didn't want to travel to foreign lands, but she had to do her duty.
Xiao Yen pushed the book away and picked up another sheet of paper. This time, she'd do it right. She concentrated hard, talking herself through every fold, holding her arms up in front of her face. However, she tried too hard, and ended up tearing the left back leg as she refolded a crease.
With the sound of the rip still ringing in her ears, Xiao Yen looked at the horse in horror. Was it an omen? Long Yen was going to protect horses as part of his duties. Would she have responsibilities like that someday, and fail?
Then her anger took over. Xiao Yen threw the paper to her table in disgust. She was no good. Nothing was right. Maybe she should have just stayed at Gan Ou's, and not come back. Give up.
Xiao Yen glanced into the courtyard. The younger students had gone to their afternoon classes. No one expected her until dinner. Xiao Yen stretched her arms in front of her and rolled her wrists. Maybe a walk to Bao Fang would be good for her. Master Wei didn't approve of his older students going into the city without his permission, but he was busy with a class.
Xiao Yen leaned over her table, then stood up straight. Her lucky amulet slapped against her neck. She fingered it ruefully. Maybe she wasn't as lucky as she'd once thought. Then she left.
* * *
Xiao Yen marched into town, sounding off with each step: unfair, unfair, unfair. Little winds whirled around her feet, spinning the dust in the road up to her knees.
She could never please everyone.
If she got married, like Fu Be Be and Gan Ou wanted, she'd disappoint Wang Tie-Tie, and all her training would go to waste. She'd lose her quiet, her calm. If she got a position with a foreigner, she'd disappoint and anger her mother. There was no way for her to please them both. When Wang Tie-Tie died, her mother would win. Xiao Yen would have to get married. Wasn't that what girls were supposed to do? Maybe her mother should win.
Xiao Yen shuddered at the thought of having to work for foreigners, with their impossible language, their dirty habits. She'd be cast out from her own people forever.
Xiao Yen snorted. She was an outcast now. It didn't matter what she did. People in Bao Fang would always talk about her upbringing, even when she was as old as Wang Tie-Tie. Things could only be different if she went someplace else. Yet in a new place she'd be a stranger, and talked about anyway. Her family would be far away, both a blessing and a curse.
As Xiao Yen neared Bao Fang, she modified her walk to a casual stroll. She didn't want people to stare at her anymore than they already did. She decided to walk to the northern market, stare at the foreigners, see the worst of her fate. She rubbed her amulet hard. She'd always been so lucky. Maybe her luck would win out, pull her through. Xiao Yen closed her eyes and stopped on the dusty road for a moment. She breathed a brief prayer to Jing Long. Help her see a clear way out of this.
Then she remembered visiting the well with Bing Yu. She'd always been sure there was some magic there, but that last visit, she hadn't felt anything. Maybe there never had been anything for her to feel, maybe it was just an old well. She started walking again, then paused and spat in disgust.
“There!” she said under her breath. “That's what I think of you, old dragon!”
“Xiao Yen!” someone called from behind her.
She jumped and looked over her shoulder. Bing Yu waved at her, dressed in a coat so bright and yellow it glowed. Patterns of green pine and red berries dotted the front and sleeves. Her pants shone pure silver. Though Xiao Yen's coat was new, it was a dark forest green, with no embroidery.
Bing Yu's nurse was dressed in a coat the same color as Xiao Yen's.
Xiao Yen refused to let her plain clothes bother her. She waved to her friend. A sudden gust of wind buffeted her back, pushing her toward Bing Yu.
“You bad girl!” Bing Yu said, hitting Xiao Yen on the arm.
Had Bing Yu heard what Xiao Yen had said as she'd spat?
“Why didn't you tell me you were coming into town?”
Xiao Yen grinned in relief. “Oh, I just decided to go,” she said casually.
Bing Yu opened her eyes wide. “Really? You didn't ask permission?”
Xiao Yen replied, “No, I didn't.” Her voice sounded grim even to her ears.
“What's wrong? Why did you rebel?” Bing Yu asked.
Xiao Yen smiled, the tightness easing in her chest. There was real concern in Bing Yu's voice. She wasn't just searching for gossip. Maybe it would help Xiao Yen if she could talk with someone about her dilemma.
“My sister, Gan Ou, talked with Chieh-yeh Be Be, the matchmaker, and she's agreed to find me a husband. Wang Tie-Tie wants me to get a position protecting a caravan, but no one except foreigners will hire me. And Wang Tie-Tie's so old. Even if I get a position, my mother might take it away. I'm tired of practicing all the time, always studying, always exercising, and for what? That official from Huang Hwa thought I was a charity case. No one believes a girl can be a paper mage.” Xiao Yen rolled the bitter words around her tongue, and spat again, trying to take the foul taste out of her mouth.
“What are you going to do?” Bing Yu asked breathlessly. “Are you going to give up magic?”
“I don't know,” Xiao Yen replied. “If I get married, I'll get a bad husband, because I went to Master Wei's school. If I get a position, it'll be a bad position, because I'm a girl. No matter what I do, it's going to be bad. I don't know what to choose.” Should she deny her aunt? Forget her promise to do something worthy? There were still those scars on Wang Tie-Tie's arm to consider. Or should she deny her mother, her sister, all convention, and accept a position? If one was ever offered to her?
“If you give up magic, your aunt can't force you to travel with foreigners,” Bing Yu told her, tucking her arm into Xiao Yen's and walking through the gate into Bao Fang. Her nurse followed at a discreet distance behind them.
“It would break Wang Tie-Tie's heart if I just quit. She's waited her whole life for someone in our family . . . to show potential,” Xiao Yen ended, not wanting to spill family secrets to Bing Yu.
Bing Yu walked in silence for a while. They passed the street leading toward Xiao Yen's family compound. Here there were no beggars, but many more scholars and businessmen. There were also water boys, monks in their saffron robes, and mothers shepherding their children. Though the sun shone down warmly, there was still an occasional gust of wind to send shivers down Xiao Yen's back.
It wasn't until they were close to the center of the city, near the well, that Bing Yu spoke. “I know!” she said. “You don't have to tell anyone you're giving up your magic. You can just do something to make it leave.”
“What do you mean?” Xiao Yen asked. She'd never thought of her magic as a part of her, like her hand or her foot. Her “magic” was her knowledge, her skill. She couldn't just forget everything she'd learned.
“You can spit at the altar of Zhang Gua Lao, your patron saint. That will show him that you don't want to do magic anymore, and he'll take it away from you,” Bing Yu said.
Xiao Yen gasped, horrified. How could she spit at Zhang Gua Lao? It would be like spitting on the grave of her father. “I cou
ldn't do that,” Xiao Yen said.
“Sure you could,” Bing Yu said. “You just need to work up to it in small steps. I know! You can start by doing what I did, and spitting at the altar of Jing Long.” Bing Yu grasped Xiao Yen's arm. “Come on, it's right here,” she said, pulling Xiao Yen down the street toward the well.
Xiao Yen dragged her feet, not wanting to get any closer.
Bing Yu didn't notice, and continued building her plans. “Then, after you spit here, maybe tomorrow, you could go spit at Jing Long's altar in the White Temple.”
Xiao Yen pulled her arm out of Bing Yu's grasp. Her friend stopped, turned and faced Xiao Yen, arms akimbo. “Nothing happened to me when I spit at this altar. Nothing will happen to you. Not by doing this. Or are you afraid the dragon will crawl out of the well and come get you, like some demon your old nurse told you about? You're the one who said you didn't see any magic in that old well.”
“Bing Yu, there are too many people around,” Xiao Yen said, looking for an excuse to not go near the well. The following week was Jing Long's birthday. Everyone in the city would line up to place offerings around the well, to wish the dragon luck. Preparations had already started. Monks were building a false temple around the well. They had already repainted the altar.
“Nobody will notice, silly. Come on. I'll do it first. It's a good start for you, to show you don't want to practice your magic anymore.” Bing Yu dragged Xiao Yen to the west side of the well.
A temporary, brightly painted wooden wall stood on the eastern side of the well. To the south stood walls and an elaborate portico, the gateway to the well. By the end of the week, walls would be added to the north and west sides too, plus a roof, enclosing the well in its own temple. After the celebration, they'd be taken down again, until the following year.
Bing Yu pretended to admire the wall on the far side of the well.
Xiao Yen shrank inside herself, wishing she could disappear like a ghost at sunrise. She didn't think that spitting by the well would affect her magic. Then she sighed. It would be easier to follow the path Bing Yu set for her than to follow her own path, a path she couldn't see.
No one paid any attention to the two girls standing next to the well. The monks were stabilizing the latest column they'd raised on the near side of the portico by attaching it to the existing columns. Then they went to the other side to do the same thing.
“They're gone,” Bing Yu whispered to Xiao Yen. “This is our chance.” She looked over her shoulder toward the street. Then, in a smooth motion, she looked toward the well and spat in that direction. A small patch of wet appeared at the base of the well wall.
Xiao Yen's mouth went dry.
“See?” Bing Yu said, grinning at Xiao Yen. “No thunderclouds or lightning bolts. There's nothing here, nothing to be afraid of but old people's superstition. Come on. Don't be a wet goose. Or do you want to be an old maid? Alone, never married, no sons or daughters to look after you in your old age? With only foreigners to call you friend?”
Xiao Yen didn't want the life Bing Yu described. She saw it unfolding before her, then folding back up with her inside. The loneliness made her clench her teeth. Even her family would turn their backs on her, once Wang Tie-Tie died, if she continued in her course. The only bright spot was her quiet river, weaving its way through her future, like a shiny silver ribbon. Xiao Yen shivered. Was that all that she could look forward to? Shadows lurked at the corner of her vision, like bobbing plants or dancing birds, but Xiao Yen didn't turn to look. She'd seen enough.
In one swift motion she turned her head and spat toward the well.
To her horror, instead of landing at the base of the well wall, a gust of wind picked her spittle up and carried it over the edge.
Xiao Yen felt the pit of her stomach drop as she imagined that her spit had, dropping down into the well, mingling with the water. She froze in fear. What had she just done? Yen Lo, the ruler of Hell, would judge her harshly for desecrating the home of a dragon. She clutched her amulet with her right hand but no prayer came to mind. Her thoughts tumbled over each other. Dread sank into her bones.
Bing Yu laughed at her expression. “See?” she said. “Nothing's going to happen.”
Xiao Yen turned to look at the well. In her mind's eye she couldn't see a dragon or any magic. She couldn't shake the feeling that something lurked at the bottom of the well, just out of her sight.
“I have to go back to school now,” Xiao Yen told Bing Yu. “Good-bye.” Xiao Yen hurried back toward the southern gate. Nothing good was going to come of this. Not even her luck could save her now, she was certain.
Chapter Twenty-Three
On the Trail
The two soldiers guarding the gate of the courthouse compound wore solid, scuffed armor, made of iron and leather. They didn't stop the fisherman from propelling Xiao Yen through the gate. Xiao Yen was surprised at the size of the crowd that followed them. Though the dragon had stopped its attack—Xiao Yen had seen it fly south, down the coast—parts of the town still burned. She wondered why the townspeople weren't occupied with water-bucket lines to put out the fires. All she could think was that there was more water in this town than in Bao Fang because it was near the sea.
The court sergeant who stood guard at the door of the main hall did stop them. He interrogated the fisherman, all the while watching Xiao Yen. His armor was more polished; the metal rings bound across his chest held a dull shine. His face was as grim and gray as a drawn sword. The bridge of his nose jutted out from where it'd been broken and improperly set, and a long scar followed the contours of his jaw. His eyes peered out with fierce intelligence beneath mere wisps of eyebrows.
The fisherman had bound Xiao Yen's hands behind her back with thin twine as they'd walked. Now he turned Xiao Yen around to show them to the sergeant. The crowd stared at her as though she was a freak on display at the market. People whispered behind their hands to their neighbors. No one smiled or lowered their eyes politely when Xiao Yen looked at them.
The sergeant tightened the knots on her bonds and grunted. When he turned her around he spoke to her for a moment in Tuo Nu's dialect.
She replied in her own tongue, “I'm sorry, I don't understand.”
Everyone in the crowd seemed to catch their breath at the same time. The sergeant drew himself up taller and looked more fierce. He barked an order at the fisherman then disappeared inside the hall. The crowd muttered to itself. Xiao Yen looked at her feet. She couldn't reach her calm, but the constant wind she heard in her head was almost a comfort.
The sound of wooden boards being piled together came from the hall. Xiao Yen surmised that shutters were being removed from the tall windows. A bell rang out, calling the court to order. The sergeant reappeared, took hold of Xiao Yen, and pushed her into the building. The crowd followed.
The hall was rectangular, with tall windows rising almost to the ceiling on the long sides. A battered railing separated the crowd from the accused. It didn't make Xiao Yen feel any safer. An imposing wooden desk made out of dark-colored oak stood at the front of the room. Above it hung a black-and-red plaque with golden characters inscribed on it: “justice outweighs human life.”
Xiao Yen stiffened when the judge entered and sat behind the desk. This man had no innate power, just that granted by the court. She couldn't tell if he was corrupt or not. He was fat. His eyes were set so far into his face that he gazed out of rolls of skin, like a sleepy baby peeping out of piles of blankets and pillows. The look he gave Xiao Yen was of deliberate intelligence. His nose proceeded sharply down his face, skinny and at angles to everything else. His lips, too, were thin, and set in a neutral line. He wore a fine silver robe, with a white dragon embroidered across his large belly. His black judge's cap had silver rope edging the flaps that came down over his ears. The sharp contrasts in the colors matched the contrasts in his face.
The sergeant forced Xiao Yen to kneel and bow before the judge. She kept her head lowered while the sergeant spoke to the judge
in a voice that sounded like churned gravel.
The judge replied in her language, using cultured, educated tones. “What is your name?”
“Fu Xi Wén,” Xiao Yen replied, giving her formal name.
“Fu Xi Wén, you have been accused of being an evil mage, of casting a spell on the dragon, making it rise out of season, then directing it to attack Khuangho. I want to hear the fisherman's testimony then you will be given a chance to speak. I warn you. If you move in a suspicious way at any time during these proceedings, I will have you whipped. Do you understand?”
“I understand, honorable judge,” Xiao Yen replied, holding herself very still.
The fisherman spoke for some time. The judge translated for Xiao Yen. A small hope nibbled at the edges of Xiao Yen's despair. The judge wanted her to understand, so maybe he really would listen to her side as well. The fisherman didn't embellish his story much, though he did claim that Xiao Yen's eyes had flashed bolts of light at the dragon.
Finally the judge asked Xiao Yen to speak.
“I didn't call that dragon,” she started. Her knees hurt from kneeling on the hard floor for so long, but she didn't dare move.
“Did you stop by the side of the road, and move your arms in a magical way?” the judge asked. His voice sounded stern.
“I stopped by the side of the road to meditate,” Xiao Yen replied.
Some onlookers in the galley of the court who understood Xiao Yen's language translated her words for their neighbors, while others jeered. “Meditate? How do you move and meditate? Everyone knows priests meditate by staring at their navels.”
“What about you, Han Jao? Don't you meditate by moving? Thrusting?” Crude laughter filled the room.