The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 91
“He’s really mine?” he repeated.
“Yes,” Bingmei said, nuzzling the child with her nose. “Ours.”
Not only had she drawn a healing glyph on the prince, but she had also healed the other eunuchs who had been forced to serve in the palace, including Marenqo. Word had spread of her gift of healing, and many had flocked to the palace.
Quion smiled as he stood next to Lianhua, one arm around her shoulder. She saw his pack sitting inside the pagoda. The scent of grief and sadness wafted from the other woman. She’d had to give up yet another child. But she, too, smelled of buttery baked things, and it didn’t escape Bingmei’s notice that she stood very close to Quion.
She looked at the two of them. “How did you meet each other?” She raised an eyebrow at Quion. “I thought you were going to Sihui.”
He shrugged. “I started going that way. But the siskin led me to Fusang instead. I kept following it until I leaped over the wall with the meiwood cricket.”
When Bingmei had tried using it to breach the walls of Fusang on their first expedition, the cricket hadn’t worked. She wondered if something had changed after the magic that had preserved the palace in the glaciers had ended.
“The bird led me through the palace,” he continued. “It brought me to her. And, of course, I recognized Shixian. She didn’t turn me in to the guards.” He looked at her with respect and the smell of relief.
Lianhua gave him a shy smile, then turned her gaze to Bingmei. “He told me the origin of the baby. That it was the phoenix reborn. I believed him. I hate the dragon and his queen.” Her look darkened, and the metallic smell of her emotions confirmed her words. “What they took from me.” She shook her head, her lip curling.
“We escaped together,” Quion said. “And came here to hide while the battle raged below. We saw it, Bingmei,” he said, grinning. “We saw it all from up here, even when the sun was blotted by a shadow.” He paused. “I wanted to come get you, but I couldn’t leave her unprotected. I mean, I couldn’t leave the baby . . . I . . . ummm . . .” A blush came to his cheeks, and Lianhua gave him another smile that said more than just words.
“You are welcome to stay up in the pagoda if you wish,” Bingmei said, giving her friend a tender smile. “But please, come to the palace. You are welcome there. Not as servants,” she added, looking at Lianhua. “You are needed still to help care for our child.”
The syrupy smell of hope came from Lianhua. “I would be honored, Bingmei.”
“There is something you all must know,” Bingmei said. She reached for Rowen’s hand and squeezed it. “I made an oath to give Xisi my child in exchange for making Echion mortal. Otherwise, she would have killed Shixian where he lay.” She remembered that moment, the anguish she’d felt. “If she comes seeking him, I will be forced to obey. She can only be stopped if she drinks the same poison she tricked her husband into drinking. She will come back for Shixian. Our son.” She squeezed his hand again. “I know she will.”
Quion frowned, his expression turning grave with determination. “Then we must stop her too.”
Lianhua’s face sickened with fear. “I do not serve her anymore,” she said.
“I know,” Bingmei answered. “She intended to kill you all along, Lianhua. You have a mother’s heart. I can sense it in you. Xisi does not. She has no compassion. No tenderness or love.”
“She could be hiding anywhere,” Rowen said worriedly. “No other woman is so cunning and artful.”
“But her power is broken in half,” Bingmei said. “Without her husband, she cannot be as strong as she was.”
“Then we must do all that we can to keep them from rejoining in this world,” he declared.
Night fell over Fusang, bringing shadows and quiet. Lianhua had just finished nursing Shixian, and the babe had slipped into a blissful sleep. The nursemaid had handed the baby to Bingmei before departing. Her heart ached as she stared at his innocent face. She’d tried to suckle him, but her milk had gone. As she stared at his sleeping face, the threat of Xisi seemed far away, yet ever present. The boy’s little puckered lips parted as he yawned, and Bingmei felt a catch of pain in her chest. The love was so deep and powerful it stole her breath.
She rose, cradling the babe in her arms as she walked to the open window. Orb lamps glowed along the covered walkways beyond. She smelled the air, testing it for signs of an enemy. All was calm and peaceful.
Lianhua approached her with a swaddling blanket, and Bingmei handed over the child for the night. They’d agreed that it would be for the best if Bingmei didn’t know where Shixian was being kept. She had to trust Quion and Lianhua to protect him . . . even from her in case Xisi returned and demanded him. In her heart, she knew it would happen one day. She dreaded it. But for now, for this night, she was able to hold and tend her child. But her heart still ached as she watched Lianhua and Quion open the secret door leading from the room and vanish.
Bingmei folded her arms, wondering if the feeling of disquiet would ever leave. Xisi knew the secret ways of the palace better than anyone. A cradle with an Immortal Word of protection was still not the same thing as a mother’s arms—although her arms would be compelled to hand over the person she loved most.
After they were gone, she gazed across her chamber, one of the smaller decorative palaces in the emperor’s side of the grounds. She did not want Xisi’s rooms, nor would she have felt safe there.