The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 33

It dwarfed what she’d seen in the mortal version of Fusang.

Different types of stone could be seen in its edifice, from white granite to red sandstone, and the layers reminded her of the gorge leading to the phoenix shrine. Parapets and towers rose from it, each with a sloping rooftop. The buildings below intermingled with the gardens. And great birds swooped through the skies above the palace . . . the phoenixes that guarded it. Men and women clothed in radiance filled the courtyard, walking and conversing with each other. Amidst them sat huge copper vats with lion-head handles.

Mountains rose behind the palace, framing it with a beauty and grace only seen in nature. The sky itself was blue and brimming with fluffy clouds. No shadows marred this place, which was enveloped in an ambient light.

She felt absolute peace and safety in the courtyard. Nothing would ever harm her here. The people who walked past were fragrant with honesty and good intentions. Some even waved to her.

“How did we get here so quickly?” she asked Juexin, glancing over at him. “Was it the glyph you drew?”

He nodded. “Once I drew it, the palace pulled us here. I was instructed to walk with you until you were ready.”

“I think I am ready now.”

He drew another glyph in the air with his finger, and again the rushing feeling came, pulling them up the heights of the mountain-sized palace. She saw others walking up and down the vast steps. Siskins and other birds chirped and sang all around, brightening the air with the sound of their exuberance.

They rose until they reached the upper threshold of the palace and came over a low stone wall decorated with fluted carvings and effigies of different breeds of bird. Bingmei might have gasped had she been in her physical body. They were in an open-air pavilion filled with stone pillars and perches, where sang birds of every kind and every colorful plumage imaginable.

The flapping of wings reverberated through the air, and Bingmei looked up as an enormous bird eased down into the courtyard. It was predominantly red, the same shade her hair had become, but its plumage also contained brilliant shades of gold, umber, peach with tints of red, and even lavender. The crown of feathers above the beak were darker browns.

When it landed in the massive pavilion, the other birds burst forth in chirps and calls, recognizing their leader. The phoenix landed and began approaching Bingmei, its yellow eyes regarding her with frank interest. And then its smell wrapped around her, the scent of cinnamon porridge, baked yams, and even better things that she couldn’t name. The smells of love coming from the phoenix were so powerful that she dropped to her knees before it.

She heard its voice in her head then, and nothing startled her more than how much she recognized it and felt she had always known it.

Welcome, beloved daughter. My precious chosen one. Rise. Meet your sisters.

The urge to weep filled her soul again, yet it could not find expression. She felt accepted, treasured, and cherished—with an intensity that was beyond her ability to express. “Love” was the only word that came close, but it was insufficient. It was deeper than love. Much deeper.

As Bingmei lifted her head, she saw other soul forms approach her. They bore the shape of human women. To her surprise, she recognized them, although she had never met them in either realm. They were her sisters, the other generations of phoenix-chosen, and it felt as if she’d known them forever. Each had been trained in the fighting arts; each had grown up with a deprivation of sense or a particularly acute sense. One woman had been born blind. Another had eyesight so sharp she could pick out every tiny imperfection. One was blessed with the gift of extraordinary hearing. Another had been born deaf. All the senses—touch, taste, sight, hearing, and yes . . . there was a girl who had been born without any sense of smell. She had gone her entire life without being able to smell until she came to Tian. And she looked at Bingmei with a special smile, a sense of exuberance that reminded Bingmei of the little siskin.

Their soul forms smiled at Bingmei, showering her with an acceptance she’d so rarely felt in her mortal life.

You were all chosen, said the phoenix. Chosen to see the mortal race for what it is and what it can be. Chosen to join with me in light, to share in my gifts and power. To be an ensign for the nations. Each was chosen to give birth to the one who comes. But Echion killed your sisters before they could achieve their destiny.

The phoenix’s words twisted something in Bingmei’s heart. She longed to stay with these women, her sisters, and be part of the phoenix’s ensign.

No, beloved. You must return to Tianxia. You must teach them about Fusang. Without your sacrifice and the knowledge you will bring of the truth, the door that separates families from one another will remain closed. I will help you. My servants, even the littlest of sparrows, will help you in your efforts. But my power will always be part of you. We will go together.

Bingmei felt such a throb of love that she gasped. She gazed at the majestic bird, longing to stroke the feathers but feeling it would be disrespectful. This being was no pet. Its sentience and power dwarfed her own in every way. It was powerful enough to defeat Echion. It possessed an inner strength that went beyond its beak, its talons, the muscles rippling beneath the plumage. It filled her with awe.

Why did you choose me? she asked the phoenix in her mind. I am nothing compared to you.

She heard a little clucking sound, a tender sound that made her want to shiver with delight.

Because I knew, beloved, that you would be faithful to me.