Descendant of the Crane(60)

Hesina dragged back her tears, sinuses smarting. Then she returned to her chambers and muscled through a dozen pages of the real, original Tenets. One of the Eleven, in particular, said things that resonated through the pulsing of her head, and she went to bed troubled by how she related to them.

In trying times, truth is the first thing we betray.

She had lied for the truth, blackmailed for the truth, implicated innocents for the truth. Soon she’d unearth her father’s grave for the truth. But could she face the truth? Hesina had once known the answer to that question.

She no longer did.





EIGHTEEN





ONE ACT OF TREASON PAVES THE WAY FOR A THOUSAND OTHERS.

ONE OF THE ELEVEN ON LAW


IF THE PEOPLE APPROVE THE LAW, IT MUST BE FOLLOWED.

TWO OF THE ELEVEN ON LAW

“Na-Na?”

Lilian blinked from the opening in her fuchsia-and-gold fretworked doors. Hesina knew how she looked. It was two gong strikes past midnight, and snow dusted her hair; the first flurries of the season had started coming down after she left Akira’s rooms. “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.

It was all the explanation Lilian needed. “Don’t mind the silks,” she said, ushering Hesina in.

The silks were partly why Hesina had come to the Western Palace. She couldn’t seem to face her own chambers after Akira’s proposition, and the clutter and color here chased the demons from her head. She lay on the bed, and Lilian flung down beside her. It’d been a long time, Hesina realized, since the days when the two of them would hide here. They’d make a tent of the blankets, and Lilian would speak of all rainy nights she and Caiyan had huddled beneath crumbling awnings and stone bridges, of orange rinds chewed to paste and roach bites that ripened with pus. She’d hug Hesina tightly afterward, and later, when she snored, Hesina couldn’t bear to wake her.

Now, like before, Lilian rolled over and threw her arms around Hesina, enveloping her in a cloud of osmanthus and peach-blossom perfume. Her sister’s breathing evened. Slowed. The snores started, and a smile curled on Hesina lips.

Then came the unbidden image of Lilian thrown into a cell. Lilian, interrogated like Mei.

Lilian, framed by Xia Zhong.

Impossible. Lilian didn’t have blood relations other than Caiyan, Kendi’an or otherwise. She was just Hesina’s sister, for whom Hesina would do anything—perhaps even declare a war.

Her bones filled with ice. Slowly, she wiggled free, pulled the blankets up to Lilian’s shoulders, and stepped out, closing the doors behind her. She tilted her face to the heavens, snow landing on her lashes, and made a promise.

She’d go to the Ten Courts of Hell for unearthing the grave of the deceased, but she’d take Xia Zhong with her.



In the morning, Hesina went to Akira with an armful of star charts.

“We’ll need to wait,” she said, pointing to a date before Mei’s trial the following week. “When Shu’s two minor moons intersect in orbit, the arc of the sun drops one degree. We can unearth the tomb under the pretense that it must be propped at an angle for the spirit to receive the most direct rays.”

Akira scratched his head. “That’s very elaborate.”

Elaborate and vague—two things any good cover story required. She was about to become the first Yan ruler to unearth a tomb. This white lie would pacify the people if they found out, but to perfect it, Hesina needed the Minister of Rites’ seal.

Suffice to say, Xia Zhong wasn’t thrilled to see her so soon. He kept his distance as she made her request, a scarf wrapped around his neck. She almost sympathized—until he made his counter-request. He’d sanction her unearthing the tomb if she let him open a silver coffer for “provincial shrine projects.” She had no choice but to agree.

In the evening, Sanjing met with Akira to disclose information pertinent to the trial. Hesina was present to facilitate, but her brother got along with Akira just fine.

“You seem like another mysterious one,” mused Sanjing at the end. “My sister certainly has a taste for them.”

Hesina’s blush ruined her glare.

“At least you can fight. The guards say you were a formidable opponent.”

Akira lifted his rod. “With this?”

“Anything you master can be called a weapon.”

“I’m afraid I’d disappoint. I’ve never played the flute before.”

Sanjing blinked, then pretended Akira hadn’t spoken. “When all this dies down, find me. I’ll see that your talents aren’t wasted.”

“Stop trying to recruit my representative,” Hesina said to Sanjing after they left Akira’s room.

“Stop letting him delude himself. That thing can’t possibly be a flute.”

“It has holes. And it’s hollow.” I think.

“Flutist or not,” said her brother, “he’s a swordsman, through and through. Did you see the way he was positioned?”

“Positioned?”

“Yes. He angled himself toward my dominant side immediately.”

“Jing,” said Hesina carefully, “you were both sitting.”

“All the more impressive, for him to be able to sense it.”

“Jing, you don’t have a dominant side.”