Soundless(65)

Around me, the mood is conflicted, and I share in that mixed emotion. We are all glad to see the soldiers removed, but there is a deadly edge to the pixius’ beauty. When there are no more soldiers in sight, the pixius make a few more circling flights before turning their attention on us. They land in the center of the clearing in one great, glittering herd and approach us on foot. Li Wei’s arm is around me, and I feel him tense. Fear shines on the faces of my people and Nuan’s, and a few terrified individuals seek the safety of the mine.

I share their anxiety, looking over the approaching pixius and wondering what is to stop them from turning on us. For all I know, they saw the soldiers as the immediate threat and eliminated it before turning to easier prey.

The pixius come to a stop only a few feet away from where I stand. I hold my breath. They are so close that I can see all the multifaceted strands of fur that make up those rippling, metallic coats. Their claws glitter too—some are wet with blood. All of them have blue eyes, something the stories never mentioned. It is a clear, azure blue, like the sky they descended from. It is fitting, I decide. Those beautiful eyes watch us all solemnly now, as though they too are waiting for something.

From their midst, there is a stirring, and one pixiu steps out toward the front of the group. She—somehow, instinctively, I know this one is female—is one of the largest and has a coat of mixed silver and white strands. She shimmers like moonlight as she moves, and her beauty makes me weak in the knees. At the same time, I also experience that sensation again—that tugging in my chest that makes me feel like someone is summoning me over a great distance. It grows stronger and stronger as she approaches, until that sense of connection practically burns within me. Her eyes hold mine, beckoning. Unable to resist, I slip out of Li Wei’s arm and step forward. He signals to me in my periphery.

Fei, be careful. You’ve seen what they’re capable of. They have a taste for blood.

I nod in acknowledgment and move closer to the herd until I’m just a few feet away from the silver female. Both humans and pixius seem to be holding a collective breath, waiting to see how this drama will unfold. The silver one shifts and comes right up to me, and I hear a few gasps, as my people expect her to attack. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she kneels.

I reach out and rest my hand on the side of her face, letting out a gasp of my own as my mind is suddenly bombarded with pictures and scenes. It’s like having another sense. Images—hers, not mine—play out in my head, and I suddenly find myself witnessing memories from a time long, long ago. Pixius and humans—my ancestors—lived in harmony in these mountains. It was before the passes were blocked, and the village had access to fertile valleys and trade routes. The pixius draw strength from precious metals, and our ancestors would mine small amounts of ore as tokens of friendship to the pixius. In return, the pixius protected my ancestors from outside threats and also imparted an aura of energy and healing that prevented the toxins in the mines from causing harm.

But those serving the king of that time developed weapons capable of harming the pixius. Their armies came into the mountains, hunting the pixius both for their coats and to gain access to the rich mines. This last pixiu pride, weak and depleted, managed to elude its hunters and seek refuge in a magical hibernation within the mountain. They needed that sleep to recover their strength, even though it meant abandoning the humans they’d bonded to—humans who then became trapped and enslaved when avalanches closed the passes.

This female, alone of her pride, has sought a human she could share her dreams with—a human whose mind was as visually stimulated as the pixius’. It was she who reached out to me in my sleep, bonding to me, and that connection imparted the pixius’ healing upon me, restoring my hearing. She was the one who showed me what I must do—raise the voices of my people—in order to wake the rest of her pride and remind them of the bonds they once had to our ancestors.

She tells me all this in pictures—her mind to mine—as I stare into her eyes. I read the images as easily as I do characters on paper. It is part of the reason she chose me. Not all humans are capable of communicating the way the pixius do, but I understand her perfectly. Her story is an epic one, with consequences I suspect I’m only beginning to grasp. Much will have to be worked out, but for now, I have only one question.

What is your name?

She doesn’t speak in words as we do, but my query comes through to her. More images flash in my mind by way of answer. A glitter of brilliant silver, dazzling to behold. A gust of wind, stirring branches or providing an easy current for a pixiu to ride on.

Yin Feng, I think. That is your name. Silver Wind.

The pixiu bows again, and I remove my hand from her face, finding I am smiling. Li Wei and Zhang Jing are beside me, looking understandably puzzled by this silent exchange, not realizing the vast information I have just learned about our past—and, I suspect, our future.

What is happening? asks Li Wei.

A new beginning, I reply. A new beginning for all of us.





EPILOGUE


I AM AWAKE BEFORE my roommates, as usual, because I hear the servant in the hall. She sets down a pitcher of water and turns the crank that shakes our beds. One by one, the other girls awaken, yawning and stretching as they try to throw off the heaviness of sleep. Many are reluctant to leave their covers, for autumn is upon us and the room is cold.

Zhang Jing pulls the blankets around her like a hood, pouting when she sees my grin. Time to wake up, I tell her. Don’t worry—the sun will warm things soon. It’s not winter yet.