A Magic Steeped in Poison (The Book of Tea #1) (99)

“Wenyi? Why did you not bring him with you?” Zhen reads the words with renewed interest. “He could have been a benefit to our cause.”

“I’m sure he would have liked to be able to tell you himself, but he … passed in the night.”

Zhen glances at me, expression softening. “You have risked it all, Ning, and for that, I am grateful.”

While she reads, I pick up Shu’s embroidery again, running my finger over the stitches. The beauty of the peony reminds me of the teahouse we escaped from, and also that entertainer who assisted me in the second round of the competition. I never managed to get her name. The moon represents me, I am certain, her love stitched into this fabric.

“We must go to Yěli?,” Zhen says to me, worry drawing down the corners of her eyes, after taking in what was revealed in Wenyi’s letter. “If we speak to the monks there, they may provide more information on what Wenyi has shared with us. If what he says is true, then the poison must have originated from Hánxiá.”

I still have more questions than answers, but Zhen instructs me to get some rest instead. She lies down next to Ruyi, while I curl up on the bench. The candle sputters next to me and casts long, leaping shadows on the wall as restless thoughts run through my mind.

My heart is torn, knowing the decision I must make tomorrow, when the ship will continue south, then turn west at Nánjiāng. We will be passing through Sù, and close to my village.

Do I follow the princess, knowing the brilliant minds at Yěli? may have the answers that will lead me to the antidote? Or do I listen to my father’s pleas and return home?

The chancellor had said he was certain a shénnóng-shī was the culprit behind the tea bricks, but was that a lie? And how did he get the magic arrow that poisoned Ruyi? I saw the three-headed snake again when I shared the tea with the general. What is Shénnóng trying to tell me? If the poison is from Hánxiá, then why would a component of the poison be seaweed from Lǜzhou?

Sleep continues to elude me, and I sit up again, quietly growling in frustration. I look down at my hand, realizing I’ve crumpled Shu’s embroidery in my fist, holding it close to my heart like a talisman. Smoothing out the fabric, my eyes catch on the peculiar color of the grass again. Rippling strangely, as if … moving in water. Then the spots on the stunted branches of the trees. Holes.

Not trees … Coral.

I recognize it now. Seaweed. The moon reflected. The poem. I’ve been looking at it all wrong. The moon is in the water. This is not my sister, reminding me of home. She knew Father would not allow her to continue her experiments for the antidote, so she sent me an outline of her discoveries.

This is a recipe.

Sweeping the scrolls off the small table, I find ink and paper, and I begin to write.



* * *



I wake to quiet voices, my face resting against my notes on the table. I wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth with my sleeve as the words swim in front of my eyes.

As sleep retreats, panic sets in, shooting through me as I hurry to the porthole, clutching the paper to my chest, afraid we have traveled too far. I see the busy port where we are currently docked. I’ve slept all day while we traveled down the river. The tower in the distance, brilliantly lit against the night, is one I recognize: Nánjiāng. I feel something sag inside me with relief, and I steady myself against the wall. It’s not too late.

“Ning?” I turn to see Zhen and Ruyi looking at me with worry.

I show them everything I’ve found. Shu’s discoveries, and how I believe I may be in possession of the missing piece of the antidote. They look at each other, silent communication passing between them, then Zhen turns to me with a nod. “We will help you in any way we are able.”

I had thought Zhen would insist upon traveling to Yěli? first, in order to act on the knowledge from Wenyi’s letter, or Ruyi would be the one to doubt my abilities, but they continue to surprise me.

“Thank you,” I tell them, voice hoarse with emotion.

I’m returning to Sù. I’m ready to go home.



* * *



On the road back home, I ponder the strangeness of the direction my life has taken. Sitting astride a horse behind the fearsome Shadow, who I thought was my enemy, following a princess who may soon be heir to nothing.

My agitation grows as we approach the village. What waits for me at home terrifies me more than waiting for my death in the dungeons. I must reach Shu before it’s too late, and the antidote must work against the poison. I cannot imagine any other possibility.

We take the road around the village, avoiding as many people as possible. I leave Zhen and Ruyi in my mother’s grove of pomelo trees, knowing her spirit will protect them.

Picking up my skirts, I run down the familiar road, climbing up Philosopher’s Hill, the moon lighting my way home. As I cut through the tea garden, the trees welcome me. Hearing them now, I know it’s not my childish imagination.

Hurry, hurry. Their whispers chase me down the next hill, until I see the rise of our roof. My hand clenches tightly around the curve of the vial containing the pearl powder.

The door flies open beneath my hand, thudding against the table. My footsteps thunder through our front room. I brush aside the bead curtain to see Father looking up from dabbing Shu’s face with a damp cloth, and my breath catches. It’s just enough hesitation to see the emotions that flit across my father’s face—relief, sadness, regret.