A Magic Steeped in Poison (The Book of Tea #1) (63)
“Stop!” Ruyi cries out. “You’re killing me!”
The rustling grows louder above our heads, as if the tree is blown by a wild wind I cannot feel. The crane has disappeared.
With a sickening pop, the darkness comes free. In my hands, it feels like pulsating, muscular flesh, and it lashes at my arm, drawing red welts. Blood beads like rubies against my skin. Malevolence creeps into my mind, a fluttering of tongues brushing against the edges of my mind. It wants nothing more than to consume. It craves life, for it has no life itself, and I open myself to it.
It slithers up my chest. I can sense its hunger and eagerness as it forces itself into my mouth. I choke, tears filling my eyes, hands going to my throat. It tastes of spoiled meat and decay, the rot of betrayal, the resentment of being forgotten. It is going to take what it was promised. Blood and memories, flesh and life …
With a gasp, I return to my body. Throwing myself off the bed, landing on my hands and knees. I spit the medicinal ball out of my mouth. It splatters on the wood floor with a sickening sizzle, and smoke rises from the pulp. The smoke forms itself into a lithe, twisted form. Grotesque protrusions begin to sprout from the serpentine body, and three heads emerge, features shaping themselves before our eyes like a sculptor forming wet clay. Three heads with human faces, skin a gray pallor. Thin lips, pale eyes, and a sound like the grinding of teeth emanating from the gashes of their opened mouths.
I stare at this hideous apparition, my body frozen in terror. It lifts itself up on its coiled body and the mouths smile down at me, revealing sharp, daggerlike teeth.
With a cry, the princess lands before me, a curved half-sword in her hand. The blade sweeps in a deadly arc and the heads roll when they land, coming to a stop not far from my feet. The body wavers on itself before toppling onto its side. As quickly as it formed, the monster disappears into smoke, leaving the scent of putrid flesh and a black mark on the floor, like someone held a torch too close to the wood.
The sword lands on the floor with a clatter, and the princess crouches in front of me.
Her mouth moves, but I hear nothing.
The last thing I remember is slipping into blessed darkness, closing over my head like the waters of the sacred spring.
* * *
A gong sounds, reminding me there is something I must do, someone I have to meet. It’s almost the Hour of the Thief. Panic grips my chest, making it hard to breathe. I fumble with the blankets, kicking.
“Ning! Ning!” Lian slowly comes into focus, her brows drawn together in worry. “You’re awake,” she sighs.
“Where…” I look around, and I see I’m in our room. I don’t remember coming back here. There’s a dull thud in my temple, and my throat is raw and burning.
Lian thrusts a cup into my hands. I drink it eagerly, and it washes a soothing path as it goes down. There are no additives, no magic. Only a good cup of tea, brewed to sweetness, as familiar as a mother’s embrace.
“How did I get back here?” I ask.
She’s sitting on a stool she has moved by my bed, looking as serious as I’ve ever seen her. “The princess had one of her guards carry you back,” she says.
“Ah.” I try to nod, but that sends a sharp twinge of pain skittering across my skull. I wince and press my fingers into my forehead, but it doesn’t ease the pain.
“It’ll take some time to get better,” Lian says, then adds hastily, “You probably already know that. Being able to do what you … accomplished.” She has an awed look in her eyes, like she’s not certain of who I am anymore.
“I saw the goddess,” I whisper, uncertain of who I am either. “She helped me.”
“The goddess?” she echoes.
“A bird … the Lady of the South?”
She nods in understanding. “We know her as Bi-Fang, Goddess of Fire.”
After a pause, Lian finally asks me the question I can tell has been circling in her mind. “What happened last night? Why were you in the inner palace?”
I’m seized by the same sort of hesitation I felt the day I returned from my encounter with Kang. I’m afraid of judgment, afraid she will accuse me of cheating. But Lian has always helped me without question. I’ve seen her kindness with the kitchen staff, the same respect extended to everyone, from the servants to the highest officials. She has offered friendship, and I have lied to her from the beginning. Now at the very least, she deserves the truth.
I begin, hesitant at first, with my mother’s death and my sister’s poisoning. How I grappled with the Shadow, then met Kang in the market. How it led to my encounter with the princess, and finally the events of last night. The only things I do not speak of are the intimate moments between me and Kang. Those I keep for myself.
“How did you hide it from everyone?” she sputters when I am done. She’s pacing the length of our room, braid swinging, considering everything I’ve told her. “Secret meetings with the princess? Sneaking around with the emperor’s nephew?”
“I would be happy to leave all this behind, if I could only secure the antidote for my sister,” I say, determined.
“So then…” She looks at me. “What about after? Will you stay there?”
“My mother was able to do it,” I say, as if there is no twinge inside me when I speak those words, as if I have not spent most of my life looking for escape from that village.