—just as a sound of unimaginable magnitude rips through our village.
Instinctively, I put my hands to my ears. Up until this point, the loudest sound I’d ever heard was the priest’s gong. No longer. This new noise reminds me of that boom a bit, but it is much, much more intense. In fact, the sound is so big, so powerful, that the very ground beneath us shakes, causing many people—including my current assailants—to pause and look around curiously. A few even glance up, and I don’t blame them. That kind of trembling is sometimes felt with thunder, but today the early morning sky is clear and full of sun.
A few shrug it off and immediately return to their squabbling. For others, it is a much-needed slap in the face, and I am relieved to see them step back from their conflict. But my relief is short-lived when I hear a new sound—an impossible sound, at least in our village. But there can be no question as the sound grows louder and louder: It is the noise made by horse hooves striking the earth, the very noise Li Wei and I were running from down below.
It can’t be, I think. There can’t be horses up here!
As the noise grows louder, I search around, trying to discern its source. I still have some difficulties gauging the location and distance of certain sounds. But as I get my bearings, I’m almost certain the horses are coming from the same direction as the initial boom. It’s a part of the mountain we rarely go, a place that was once used because of the narrow pass that led to a fertile valley and a path down the back of the mountain. Avalanches buried that narrow gap, creating an impenetrable, high wall that none have been able to get through . . .
. . . until now.
A feeling of dread builds within me, growing as the sound of the hooves gets closer and closer. Through the tumultuous crowd, I catch another glimpse of Zhang Jing, still waiting for me. But there is no time, not anymore. Go, I sign to her. Go and hide! Something terrible is about to happen!
To my relief, she turns and runs just as a new burst of noise surges behind me. I spin around in time to see a veritable army of soldiers on horseback galloping into the village’s center. With weapons raised, they ride in, uncaring of what or who is in their way. What I thought was chaotic earlier is nothing compared to what now ensues. It’s not just the soldiers and their weapons that cause the panic: The horses are equally terrifying. Like me, my people have never seen them outside of pictures. Equally rare and frightening is the sight of outsiders in our village. We’ve all seen the same faces our entire lives. New ones are a shock—especially when it’s clear these aren’t friendly.
On top of all this, I have new sounds to cope with: the sounds of war. The soldiers scream harsh battle cries as they descend upon us, the noise ugly and hateful to my ears. Around me, cries and moans from my people also rise, born instinctually from high emotion. They don’t even realize they’re making these eerie sounds, which raise the hair on the back of my neck. For a moment, as those cries fill the air, I have a strange flashback to that first dream when my hearing began. In it, my people all cried out at the same time—almost like this but less chaotic. Still, I feel something tug inside me, that same stirring I’ve felt in other dreams, like I’m being called to. It’s the first time I’ve truly felt it while awake, but I have no time to ponder it, not with what’s happening.
The people around me stampede in different directions, everyone trying to find a way to save themselves and their loved ones. There is no strategy, no unity. I try to see what the soldiers are doing, to get a sense if they’re capturing or killing, but it’s all I can do not to get trampled by my own people.
I manage to climb back up on the stage, giving me a limited view of the scene as well as a brief respite from the stampede. No one wants to be here; everyone is trying to get away. The soldiers are riding around the center, trying to trap my people within it. If some flee, the soldiers herd them back in. One man—the tall, intimidating one I encountered earlier—stands up to a soldier, but his brawn is no match for the sword that runs him through. I’ve never seen anyone killed that way, and the horror of it leaves me frozen for a moment. Another villager doesn’t challenge the army, but he also doesn’t get out of the way when a soldier comes thundering down on him on a large black horse. The man wavers, too petrified to move, and the soldier simply runs him down, trampling the man under those powerful hooves. That thoughtless killing is almost more gruesome than if he’d used his sword. It spurs me back to action.
Even those who are simply captured are subject to brutality, struck and herded with dispassionate force. I don’t know what it all means, but I know I can’t be caught here. I hop down, relying on my smaller size to weave through the panicked crowd. I head in the opposite direction the soldiers have come, hoping I can escape from the village’s heart there. As I glance back, gauging the soldiers’ position, I am shocked to see a group of people entering behind them: a group of thin, ragged people in chains. Even more shocking is when I recognize one of them: Li Wei.
He can’t be here. He can’t. It’s impossible.
We’re pretty good at the impossible.
Incredibly, despite the pandemonium filling the gulf between us, he spots me as well. Our eyes meet, and in a moment I have changed direction and am heading back into the heart of the village. I don’t care that it’s the most dangerous place to be right now, not if Li Wei is there. He’s standing on the fringe of the chained prisoners, where there are fewer guards. There also aren’t many villagers there, as most of them are running in the opposite direction. I have to do a fair amount of dodging as I make my way across the center. A number of times I am shoved and kicked in the frenzy of capture-and-flee going on. A soldier on horseback eyes me as I run past him but then decides a larger, muscled miner is a better prize to go after.
Breathless, I reach the chained prisoners and find Li Wei, my heart lifting at the sight of his beloved face. I throw my arms around him, unable to believe he’s real and in front of me, particularly after all the terrible outcomes I’d been imagining for him. He looks worn and tired, and there are new bruises on him, but the fire in his eyes glitters as fiercely as ever when we finally break away to regard each other. He can’t speak easily to me, not with his hands chained, but suddenly a cry escapes his lips as his eyes focus on something behind me. I don’t need to understand any spoken language to get his message, and I spin around in time to see a foot soldier waving a sword at me. Li Wei hurls himself forward, swinging his manacled hands up to intercept the blade coming toward my head. The soldier isn’t prepared for Li Wei’s considerable strength, and as chain and blade hit, the soldier is thrown backward, stumbling. His sword slips from his hands in a flash, and I pick it up, aiming it for the soldier’s neck.
I’ve never held a sword before. Until our trip to the township, I’d never seen a real one. And I’ve certainly never killed someone before. But as I keep the blade at the soldier’s neck, there must be something convincing in my face. Even though he is a trained fighter, even though he is bigger than me, he looks uneasy about this new situation he finds himself in. He should. Maybe I’ve never used a sword or killed anyone, but I won’t hesitate to use one now. I will do whatever it takes to save Li Wei.
I jerk my head toward Li Wei, and the soldier stares in confusion. Frustrated, I wish not for the first time that I had vocal powers of communication. Quick as lightning, I swing the sword tip to Li Wei’s manacles and then back to the soldier’s neck. I give him a meaningful look, and he finally understands. I put on a fierce expression, hoping I appear as though I’m seconds from puncturing his neck with the blade.
Tentatively, he reaches forward to unlock Li Wei’s manacles. It’s a trick, though, and he suddenly makes a play for me, diving for the sword. I hold my ground, catching the man on the cheek with a deep cut that immediately begins bleeding. In his moment of surprise, Li Wei swings his bound arms together, making the chains smack the man’s head. The soldier stumbles and falls, one more blow from Li Wei keeping him down. With trembli
ng hands, I unlock Li Wei’s manacles and then look uncertainly at the other bound prisoners standing nearby. I can’t help them all, but perhaps some will be able to help each other. I toss the key to the ground in front of them, and Li Wei and I take off, running out of the village’s center toward a cluster of trees.
It is quiet here, giving us a brief respite, and I run into his arms again. He holds me tightly, burying his face in my neck as the safety of his strength engulfs me.
Looks like you rescued me this time, he says, once we are able to speak.
How are you here? I was so worried about you, I say. I didn’t know what they’d done to you. I didn’t know if you’d be able to escape.
Actually, I did escape, he says. And then I found out they were marching back here . . . so I surrendered.
I try not to gape. But why?
I couldn’t leave our people to this fate, especially once I experienced the cruelty of the soldiers for myself. And . . . He gently traces the line of my cheek before continuing. I couldn’t leave you, Fei. I don’t care how dangerous it is here or what wonders Beiguo could hold for me. My place is with you, wherever that is.
I’m glad you came back. It’s an understatement. Shouts nearby force me to turn from him. We must go, I say, thinking frantically. We must get back to the Peacock Court.
It isn’t safe, he counters. They will most certainly attack an important building like that.
There are underground storage rooms beneath it, I tell him. I know a way that won’t be obvious to the soldiers.
His expression shows surprise at this news, but he gives a quick nod. Okay, show me.
We take off again, and I secretly hope Zhang Jing has also remembered the existence of the underground facility. Although the way to the school is fairly direct from here, we find many obstacles blocking our way. The soldiers have reorganized and are moving in small groups, trying to intercept those who made it out of the town square. Li Wei and I find ourselves taking a roundabout way, and at one point we cut very close to the mine itself. There, from the cover of the trees, we see a group of soldiers standing outside the entrance, having a heated conversation in those words I can’t understand. From their gestures—and the shocked look of a miner who runs up and halts when he sees them there—the mine has been used as a place of refuge by some of the villagers. Now the soldiers are squabbling over whether to go in or simply wait out those trapped inside. I wonder if the soldiers know about the poisonous metals and fear them.
How did all of you even get up here? I ask Li Wei. There’s no way you could have climbed in so short a time. There’s no way the horses could.
We took the mountain passes, he explains. If you go to the other side of the mountain, they lead straight up here.
I know about the passes, of course. Everyone does. But they are blocked, I point out. The giant boulders that fell in that ancient avalanche can’t be moved by human hands. Those who tried in the past were crushed by rockfall.
Human hands didn’t move them today, says Li Wei. They used some kind of black powder. I’ve never seen it before, but when enough of it was ignited, it exploded and blew apart the rocks so that we could pass.
I stare at him in wonder, thinking back to that terrible sound I heard just before the soldiers arrived. The township and the king’s men are already terrifying enough. The thought that they possess such weapons makes our chances seem bleaker than ever. Sensing my fear, Li Wei gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Come on, general. I will explain more later. We need to keep moving.
Our circuitous journey also takes us near the zip line, where I see more soldiers loading and sending down the abandoned metals from last night. Li Wei and I give them a wide berth, finally reaching the school. We observe it from a distance, noting the soldiers in the area. Some are gathering up villagers who have fled, putting them in chains and leading them away. Other soldiers remain and have started setting fire to some of the smaller houses. They seem to be leaving the Peacock Court alone for now, perhaps because they recognize it as a center of leadership and source of information. I take Li Wei’s arm and lead him into the trees, to a patch of forest far behind the school and the soldiers’ insidious work. I then begin stomping on the ground in various spots, pausing and searching the leafy undergrowth with a critical eye.
What are you doing? he asks.
Trying to remember, I reply. My foot hits a piece of wood cleverly concealed in the underbrush, and triumph flares within me. I kneel down, feeling around for the trapdoor’s handle. I pull it open and glance up at an awestruck Li Wei. Come on, I say. We will be safe here.
We have no light to take with us, but from the sun that shines down, we make out a ladder built into the earthen wall, leading down into a tunnel. I go first, and then Li Wei follows, making sure that the door closes securely behind us. For a moment, we are plunged into darkness, and then a torch flares to life in front of us. Beside it is the blade of a knife, and I recoil until I recognize the faces of two of my fellow apprentices: Jin Luan and Sheng. They look relieved that we’re not soldiers, but they still regard us with understandable wariness, given our reputations.
Are the elders down here? I ask. We must speak to them.
Sheng sheathes the blade and glares. You are in no position to make demands, not after what you’ve done.
We’ve done nothing, says Li Wei. This is the township’s doing—and the king’s. Now let us pass!
Sheng moves into a position that clearly blocks our path. I don’t know what you’ve done to corrupt Fei and twist her thinking, but there’s no way you’re getting past me.
Li Wei’s face hardens. There are plenty of ways I can get past you. Haven’t we been through this already? You didn’t fare so well before.
We have no time for this! I snap, infuriated with both of them. I turn to Jin Luan, hoping she at least will be sensible. Please, you must help. We have valuable information for the elders. Are they here?
She props the torch so that she can sign. From her troubled expression, I can tell she’s trying to decide which story about me to believe. Some of them. They brought a bunch of us here—as many as they could—and then sealed the door leading here from the school.
I can’t hold back any longer. Was my sister with them?
No. Jin Luan’s face falls a little. Not everyone made it in.
I feel a pang in my chest, and Li Wei gives my arm a quick, comforting squeeze that Sheng’s sharp eyes don’t fail to notice. We must talk to the elders, I reiterate. Can you take us to them?
Jin Luan glances at Sheng. One of us will have to stay here and stand guard.
He stares at her in disbelief. Are you serious? After what they’ve done?
Jin Luan meets his gaze unblinkingly. I’m serious about helping our people. And no one really knows what they’ve done—least of all you. It is for the elders to judge them.
Sheng scowls, and for a few seconds, the two of them are locked in a battle of wills. I confess, I have never had more respect for her than I do right now. She’s always been my artistic rival; I never realized her true strength.
Fine, Sheng says at last. He hands her the blade. I will take them.
I nod at her in thanks as we pass by and follow Sheng down the tunnel. With the torch behind us, we are soon swallowed by darkness. Without even realizing I’m doing it, I find Li Wei’s hand as we walk. Our fingers intertwine, keeping us connected as our free hands feel along the tunnel’s sides. When we reach the turn, faint illumination from more torches ahead begins to guide us, and we soon find ourselves walking into a wide, open room underground supported by stone posts and wooden beams. I tense, not sure what we’ll encounter—I know about this area only by reputation. The bare walls have been plastered, and the floor is made of hard-packed earth. And we are not alone.
Masters, Sheng declares. Look who I’ve found.
I clasp Li Wei
’s hand tighter as I face the elders for the first time since I left the village.
Most of them are here, including Elder Chen and Elder Lian. Several apprentices and a few school servants are gathered around them. My heart sinks when I don’t see Zhang Jing. I’d hoped Jin Luan was wrong about her. They all stop what they’re doing when we enter, turning to stare at us. Beneath their scrutiny, I feel almost more vulnerable than I did when I stood on the dais and faced the whole village. These are my peers and my mentors, the people I’ve worked with every day. They thought the best of me, but then, because of my actions, that viewpoint changed. The impact of that weighs heavily on me.
When no one acts right away, I release Li Wei’s hand and approach Elder Chen deferentially. I bow three times, low, before speaking. Greetings, master. I beg your pardon for leaving without permission. I have come now to tell you all the things I’ve observed in my time away.
Elder Chen studies me for a long time, and I tense, fearful of what he will do. He might very well have Li Wei and me thrown back outside into the chaos, and it would be completely within his rights. Perhaps I didn’t cause our village’s initial difficulties, but my actions are certainly what have caused our current ones.
Is it true? Elder Chen asks at last. What you told us in your painting?
Every word, master, I reply.
He studies me a bit longer, and then, to the complete astonishment of everyone in the room, Elder Chen bows to me. It appears we may owe you a great debt, he says once he straightens up. His eyes fall on Li Wei. Both of you. Now. Let us talk about what you know.
CHAPTER 17
I’M HONORED AND FLUSTERED but also self-conscious, because by this point I’ve already told the village all I know. The current actions of the township and the army are as much a mystery to me as to everyone else.
Li Wei steps forward, bowing to the elders before speaking. If you’ll allow me, I can add to what Fei has told you. I spent the night as one of their prisoners, marching up the mountain pass. I couldn’t understand the guards, but a few of them can sign. I also met a prisoner—one of the plateau villagers—who has learned to read lips. Between them, I know some of what is happening.
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