The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 89
The scent in the courtyard changed in response to his words. Amidst the stench of death and despair came a honeyed smell. Bingmei turned, inhaling the smell as it came from the vanquished army of Qiangdao. They had heard his words. They were whispering one to another, relaying what was being spoken. Hope rose within them, the hope that they might yet live.
“Bingmei, Rowen—” said General Tzu, shaking his head. “Surely it isn’t wise to lose the advantage we’ve worked so hard to gain. There will still be months of fighting before the season changes again.”
“It may not be wise,” Rowen said, “but it is merciful. We will liberate the other kingdoms, General. In due time. But let us not celebrate our first victory in a baptism of blood. Echion is dead. Xisi has fled. We have plenty of foes still to face. But the killing fog has been tamed, and we will work to break open the gates of the Grave Kingdom and free the prisoners there as well. This battle is as much about them as it is the living.”
General Tzu stared at Rowen, and Bingmei smelled his worry as well as his pride in the son of his old king.
“Spoken like a true king,” said Zhumu. He looked at General Tzu and nodded. “Some of the dragons are still out there. But we have phoenixes. The balance has been restored.”
General Tzu’s eyes crinkled, and he bowed his head. “I wondered if I would live to see this day, my prince. My king.” And he dropped to one knee before Rowen.
Bingmei’s heart ached with pride, and her feelings for him only intensified as he took her hand. A hush fell over the massive courtyard as he turned and faced the cowering army of Qiangdao. Bingmei could see Mieshi, Marenqo, and Zhuyi at the far side of the mass of men.
“Lay down your weapons,” he said in a loud, clear voice, “and you will live. Bury your weapons, and you will be welcomed as brothers.”
A cacophony of noise rose, the clatter and clang of weapons being thrust down hurting Bingmei’s ears. But the smell that came, the blooming smell of hope and reprieve made tears sting her eyes. She squeezed Rowen’s hand, her heart brimming and almost bursting.
A bird does not sing because it has an answer.
It sings because it has a song.
—Dawanjir proverb
CHAPTER FORTY
The River of Time
“This is the room where you will visit me?” Rowen asked, his hand stroking the curve of the couch as he stood behind it, exploring the chamber with his hands since he couldn’t use his eyes.
It was indeed, and the memories from that time struck Bingmei forcibly. She walked behind him, running her hand across his back so he’d know where she was. There were no birds nearby, and so he was effectively blind still.
“You were waiting for me here,” she said. “I’ve searched the palace, but I cannot find him. I had hoped to introduce you here. I won’t stop searching until I find him. In my heart, I know he is safe.”
“Introduce me? To whom?”
“My son. Our son. He’s still alive.”
She watched as his fingers dug into the fabric of the couch, so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Can I . . . have a son?” he asked hoarsely.
She nestled against him. “Yes. I wish you had been there to see his birth. He is your child, conceived in the future when we are husband and wife. The power of the Immortal Words is beyond anything we’ve ever known. You’ve learned some of them. I will teach you more. But this is the room.”
Rowen draped his arm around her shoulder. “Do you know when?”
“In the future? No.”
“Were you already there? Did you see yourself?”
“I didn’t. I don’t know if my future self was there or not. But you were waiting for me, and I could not speak.”
He sighed. “Just like in the visions I had.” He pressed his lips against her hair. “We’ll find him, Bingmei. I know we will.”
“There is more,” she said hesitantly. “Xisi was going to kill him. I agreed to make a magical oath with her because it was the only way to keep him safe. The only way for us to kill Echion. If she comes for him, I cannot prevent her from taking him away. But she doesn’t have him now. When she attacked me at the temple earlier, before the shadow blocked the sun, she was in a frenzy. I’ve sent birds looking for him and the concubine who was his nursemaid. If she fled with him, she won’t have gone far.”
He breathed evenly, and the smell of his emotions intrigued her. A new smell had started. The smell of a father.
Much happened in the two days following the Battle of Fusang. The memories were still fresh, like a bouquet of flowers. Bingmei had watched as the concubines were freed from bondage and returned to fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers, who wept and clung to them in relief and joy. She’d witnessed a ceremony in which the Qiangdao had buried their weapons in a giant sand pit they’d dug by the waterfall near the cove, where their brothers had once lain in wait for Kunmia’s ensign.
The siskin her phoenix-sister had used to help her had gone missing following the battle. Bingmei’s attempts to coax other birds to do the deed had only resulted in failure so far. There was no sign of the concubine either, which added to her worries but gave her hope that perhaps Shixian was safe after all.
Echion’s body had been placed inside the sarcophagus, and workers had removed both his body and Xisi’s empty tomb from the Hall of Memory, relocating them to another palace as a reminder of the threat they posed.
Bingmei had the power within her to bring Echion back. And that first day,