Soundless(28)

And yet a strange exhilaration is filling me as we get lower and lower and see the ground at the base of the mountain. A lush valley filled with trees spreads out before us, drawing nearer, and beyond it I can see a haze of green land that looks as though it has no trees at all. Is it possible that’s farmland? The library has books about cultivation and growing, but after the avalanches cut off the passes to our village’s fertile lands, farming has become as fantastic a concept as flying—or hearing. Dreams of what may be waiting for us spur me on in the last stretch of our climb.

Then, incredibly, we set foot on the ground. I look up and am stunned to see my own mountain and its neighbors towering off into the sky. I can’t even see the tops, as early evening clouds have moved in. It’s an entirely different perspective from the view I’ve seen my whole life: peaks surrounding us and mist-covered depths below. I realize I’m standing in the place where my ancestors first migrated from, and that’s a heady thought too.

Ready to see what this place has to offer? Li Wei asks.

He walks over to me to undo the ropes that have bound us together. His hands work deftly on the knots around my waist, and I hope it’s not obvious that I’m holding my breath. Again I am amazed at how delicate his touch is for someone so large. When he finishes, his hands linger on my waist a fraction longer than they need to, and then he steps back.

Do you know where to go? I ask.

He puts a hand up to his eyes and scans around, taking in the sun’s position over our mountain. We spent a lot of time in the empty village, and it will be evening soon. After a little scrutiny, he points to the north.

That is where our zip line descends. We’ve gotten a bit off course climbing down. We’ll need to go over there to find its end—to find the line keeper.

I glance down at my dirty clothes and scraped hands, then make note of the late hour. Maybe we should rest and clean up tonight, I say. We aren’t in any condition to parlay with a man like him.

Li Wei nods in agreement and adds, It might very well be dark by the time we make it to his station. Let’s explore a little and see if there’s a good place for a camp. He gestures around the expanse of woods. Any preference?

I shake my head. You choose.

He hesitates and then pulls out the little pixiu statue. He flips it once in the air and then skillfully catches it one-handed. The pixiu is facing east. Li Wei puts it back in his pack and says, East it is.

We walk off into the eastern copse of woods, and I am particularly vigilant. I’ve learned that humans make a lot of noise in overgrown forest like this, so I’m mindful of sounds that might indicate we aren’t alone. We run into nothing and no one troublesome, however, and soon find a small glen where a bubbling brook pools slightly before running off through the woods. It’s a good spot to rest and clean, though we are nervous about lighting a fire when we might be close to civilized lands. Fortunately it’s warmer at this lower elevation, and we decide we can endure the night without a blaze.

You brought extra clothes to meet the line keeper? Li Wei asks when he sees me getting out the other set I took from the school.

I shrug. It just seemed practical. I wasn’t thinking about him at the time, but now I’m glad. I want to represent our village honorably.

I guess I’ll represent ours the only way I can, he says, giving a wry glance to his own shirt. It’s one of the dingy miners’ garments, now torn and dappled with blood from the journey down. He left the white mourning shirt back in the village. But then, I’m a barbarian, so it’s to be expected.

Perhaps we can clean it, I say, though I’m not so certain. Let me see it.

He takes off his shirt without hesitation, and I try not to let my jaw drop. We engaged in all sorts of adventures and games as children, but none of them involved his shirt coming off. It’s impossible not to be aware of his strength and build even when he’s dressed. Without the shirt, he’s like one of the invincible heroes from the stories my father used to tell us. I take the shirt from him and try not to think about what Elder Lian would say about this situation I’ve inadvertently put myself in.

There’s a boulder overgrown with moss nearby with a cuplike depression in its center. I pour water into it and do my best to soak and scrub the shirt, making a little progress—but not much. I’m fighting against dirt gathered from much more than just this journey. The linen is probably permanently dyed the color of the mines.

I didn’t think artists had to do their own laundry, he remarks as I work.

I lift my wet hands to make a retort but stop when inspiration hits. I go back to my pack and find my belt pouch, which I brought with me from the Peacock Court. It still contains the packets of pigment I used to bring with me on my observations. After a few moments, I select the one that makes green paint and dump its entire contents into the water. Li Wei comes up beside me, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest and a curious expression on his face. I take a deep breath, more than aware of how close he’s standing.

If we can’t get the dirt out, maybe we can cover it up, I explain. He looks dubious, and I add, Well, it can’t be any worse. Once it’s set in the dye for a while, we’ll hang it to dry in that tree—

My hands freeze midsentence as my eye catches something. I forget all about dyes. I forget about shirts. I even briefly forget about Li Wei as I take in this new discovery. Most of the trees around here are evergreen, but a few are deciduous and just barely showing the signs of late summer giving way to autumn. The tree I’d nodded at is one, a kind I’ve never seen before. While I don’t know what type it is, I do know what I see in its highest branches. I point, and Li Wei follows the motion, his eyes widening when he sees what I spotted.