"Like the dragon," Snow Tiger said softly.
I cast a grateful glance at her. "Yes. As different as earth and sky, and as alike as parts of the whole. My people have been stewards of such places and their ancient magic from time out of mind. I believe I was sent to help stem the tide that threatens it. We have used our gifts unwisely in the past. I do not believe I do so now."
"All ways lead to the Way," the Emperor murmured, and my throat tightened to hear Master Lo's familiar words spoken. His gaze sharpened.
"There are over six hundred soldiers awaiting death, and hundreds more alchemists, engineers, and smiths yet to be discovered. Are you capable of a task of such magnitude ?"
"I hope so, Celestial Majesty," I said. "I very, very much hope so."
Emperor Zhu gave a decisive nod. "So do I."
Word of the reprieve went out at dawn, followed by a great roar of cheering from the camp. Amazing to me, not a one of the condemned soldiers had protested against their fate, reckoning it just under the Mandate of Heaven against which they had rebelled unwittingly.
But they were grateful to be spared.
Thus, the process began.
It took place in the gardens where I could draw strength from the earth, from the trees, and flowering shrubs, from the lake and the mountain reflected in it, from the open sky overhead. One by one, the soldiers were escorted into the garden.
Many of them were young, scarce more than boys. Operating the weapons of the Divine Thunder was a dangerous job, one given to the rawest of recruits. They were half-dazed at their good fortune, scarce comprehending what was being asked of them, awed by the presence of Snow Tiger, who stayed firmly by my side.
Once they understood, they offered their memories freely.
They were terrible memories, memories of bronze and blood and fire-powder, torches and acrid smoke, ear-splitting thunder, misfires, and blasted limbs. I breathed them in and sent them away, summoning the magic again and again, breathing the cool mist of forgetfulness in place of a thousand terrible memories.
I could not erase everything. Some memory of the horror would linger, a poisonous seed that might one day bear fruit again. Thousands of others had witnessed it, too many to eliminate in any manner. But I could take away enough that no one would remember how those deadly weapons functioned, and mayhap the horror that lingered would serve to remind them that such knowledge should never be sought, lest another such dreadful war arise.
Stone and sea, it drained me!
But Master Lo had been right; I was using my gift as it was intended, and I could feel that the strength that went out of me seeped back into the world around me, where I could draw on it again. I was not spilling myself on barren ground.
In between every ten soldiers, I paused to meditate, breathing the Five Styles and restoring myself.
At the end of the first day, I had swallowed the memories of more than a hundred soldiers. I was tired beyond words, too tired to think, and my head was full of blood, war, smoke, and thunder. I ate because the princess insisted on it, then fell into a sleep like death.
For a mercy, I did not dream. I don't think I could have borne it if I had dreamed.
The next day, it began all over again.
I didn't count the number of days it took or the number of men whose memories I breathed in and swallowed. It took as long as it took, one day blurring into the next, one anxious young face after another blurring into an endless stream of humanity. Each soldier to come forward was given a reward, some small sum of money. In the end, I think it was more than seven hundred. In the early days, a few with no direct experience with the weapons put themselves forward, trying to offer memories that didn't exist. I shook my head and sent them way, and word spread that it was no use trying to fool me.
Blood, war, smoke, and thunder.
Over and over, I swallowed it.
If it hadn't been for Snow Tiger, I'm not sure I could have endured it. She never left my side, reminding me to rest when I forgot, badgering me to eat when I didn't want to.
"Like it or not, I have become your necessary inconvenience," she said calmly when I protested that I was too tired. "At least for a time."
"Do you still think of me thusly?" I asked wearily.
"No, Moirin. Not for a long while. I told you so before." The princess regarded me. "Do you know what rumor says? It says that you dazzle their wits with your strange, foreign beauty and jade-green eyes, dazzling them until they forget."
"Oh?" Even in the depths of exhaustion, I had to own it cheered me a bit. I was not wholly immune to D'Angeline vanity. "Would that it were so easy."
She smiled. "I know. Now eat."
So it went, day after day, until the endless stream slowed to a trickle, then ran dry. There would be others, countless others, but not from the poor soldiers of Lord Jiang's army.
That was when Bao came.
I felt him drawing nearer, felt the twinned flame of my diadh-anam approaching. I always knew in what direction to find him. But my wits were clouded with memories of blood, smoke, and thunder, and I was tired enough that I didn't realize how close he was until he was there in the garden. The Imperial guards escorting him didn't realize he was anything more than one last straggler, having seen so many men in the past days.
My heart leapt.
My diadh-anam blazed.
"Moirin." Bao's voice was husky. A faint shimmer of darkness yet clung to him, and he held the broken halves of his staff in one hand.
"Bao." I blinked away tears.
Snow Tiger gave me an inquiring look. I tilted my head, and she understood. We had come to understand one another very well, she and I. Without a word spoke between us, she quietly ordered the dismissal of the guards and attendants in the garden, withdrawing after them to leave us alone.
I sat cross-legged on the grass.
Bao sat opposite me.
"Master Lo—" I began.
"Don't." He held up one hand. "Moirin….. I know it was his doing, and not yours. I needed time to understand it. But this….." He laid his hand over his heart. "I don't know how to live with it. And I have yet to find an answer."
I rubbed my stinging eyes. "What are you saying?"
"I'm not sure myself." He looked away. "Everything I have done in my life, good and bad, I have chosen." His upper lip curled. "Ever since I said yes to Brother Thunder and agreed to be his peach-bottom boy. Even that, I chose, because I wanted so badly to learn. But this I did not choose."
"Neither did I!"
He looked back at me. "I know. Master Lo Feng chose it for us. And if….. if I had been given the choice, I would have chosen it. Not his death, never that, but you. I would have chosen you."
I couldn't seem to halt my tears. "So why—?"
"What would you have chosen?" Bao asked softly. "Do you even know?"
"No," I admitted, sniffling. "Bao, I don't even know what choice you would have offered me!"
His gaze was steady. "I know you would not wish to stay in Ch'in, even though I think you have come to love it a little bit. It is not your home. Me, I have no home. No mother, no father. If you had wished it, I would have asked Master Lo for his blessing to leave his service and go with you." He smiled sadly. "You may be a sorceress capable of breathing night into day, swallowing men's memories, and coaxing plants to grow, but you are also a girl quick to give her heart away, and sometimes it may be to a noble dragon, but sometimes it is to an ambitious bully eager to use you. I would have protected you, Moirin."
"And I would have said yes!" I cried. "Bao, I do love you. I don't know if it's enough to last through eternity, but I wanted to find out! Why does what happened change everything?"
He fidgeted with his broken staff. "I don't know. But it does."
I wiped at my tears. "Are you punishing me for Master Lo's death?"
"No!" he said quickly. "No. And I would never leave you if I didn't believe you would be well cared for. You are an Imperial favorite, Moirin. If you wish for a greatship to carry you home, the Emperor will give it to you."
I felt his half of my diadh-anam pulsing inside his breast, calling to mine. "I don't understand."
Bao looked away again. "And I don't know if I can explain. What Master Lo did bound us together. I am yoked to your destiny. And….. I need to know that I can bear to live without you before I can accept it."
"I don't understand," I repeated helplessly.
"When I was dead….." he began, then halted. "When I was dead, I stood before the God of Places. Before he could begin to review my deeds, the Maiden of Gentle Aspect came for me. She held a lantern like a star in one hand, and she was smiling like the sun." He bowed his head. "I have done good things and bad things, but I died a true hero's death. I would have been spared judgment and punishment."
I didn't speak, having no idea in the world what to say.
Bao lifted his head and touched his hand to his chest again. "Now I don't even know what I am, Moirin. There is a flame that burns inside me and yearns for you. I dream of bears. What am I?"
"Yourself," I whispered.
He shook his head. "I do not know how to be this self. I need to learn." He gave me a sidelong look. "And I need to find a way to believe, somehow, that you would have chosen me for myself, not because Master Lo Feng's sacrifice bound you to me."
Grief and weariness broke over me like a wave, tinged with anger. "How am I to prove it to you? What is done cannot be undone, Bao."
"I don't know." He rose with lithe grace, the broken halves of his staff in one hand. "Moirin, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. But I have to go away."
"You already went away," I said tiredly, hauling myself upright.
"Farther away and longer." Bao's haunted gaze met mine. "I will know where to find you. No matter where in the world you go, I will always know."
I put out my hand. "Give me your staff." He hesitated, then obeyed. I fit the broken halves together, leaned my brow against the splintered, battered bamboo, and called the magic with the last reserves of my strength, breathing it into the wood and willing it to be whole.
The staff shivered and twisted in my hands, momentarily alive.
Bao's eyes widened.
I handed it back to him, whole. "I don't understand, but I do know that there is no arguing with you, my stubborn peasant-boy with the strange, infuriating, and rebellious sense of pride. So take this with my love and my blessing, and when you are ready to make us whole, come find me."
"I will try," he said in a hoarse whisper. "Before all the gods, I swear I will try. But I cannot promise it."
I swayed on my feet. For a moment, I thought he would reach out to steady me, that he would cup my face in his hands as I had done t so many men in the past days, that he would kiss me. And my twinned diadh-anam shone so brightly, so gloriously, at the prospect, that I knew Bao would never leave if he did.
Bao knew it, too.
With a visible effort, he took a step backward. "I'm sorry," he repeated, offering a ragged, graceless bow. "I have to do this."
I watched him walk away, carrying with him half the divine spark that was my birthright as a child of the Maghuin Dhonn with him. And then I sank to the grass, covered my face with my hands, and wept.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
It was the princess and the dragon who got me through the worst of my grief.
Snow Tiger was gentle and kind and careful with me, but she was firm, too, refusing to let me wallow in sorrow.
And the dragon…..
He came two days after Bao's departure, the day before we were scheduled to leave for Shuntian. He came in silvery-white glory, arrowing through the skies, descending to settle into the rapidly cleared town square to the eternal delight of the villagers.
I went to him.
"Treasured friend." The dragon's voice was a deep rumble. "I grieve to see you in sorrow."
I smiled at him through tears. "And I rejoice to see you in splendor."
He arched his neck, preening. "Yes." I laughed. The dragon extended one clawed foreleg. "I made you a promise. Will you come with me to the slopes of White Jade Mountain to plant the bulbs you have carried so far? I will watch over them, forever and always, thinking of you." He paused, then lowered his immense voice. "Where is the princess? I would like it if she came, too."
"So would I," I agreed.
Ah, gods! It was a poignant, painful, and glorious thing. For the second time in our lives, Snow Tiger and I rode in a dragon's claw. He cast himself like a spear into the skies, corkscrewing through the air, carrying us tenderly. I clutched my worn canvas satchel, trying to hear the snowdrops' song, hoping they were still alive. The princess leaned against the dragon's palm, her face more peaceful than I had seen it in days.
Up and up and up, we soared.
The air was thin in the heights, gaspingly thin, but oh, so pure. The dragon settled gently on peaks where no mortal foot had tread, opening his claw.
I smelled dirt beneath the snow and dug, unearthing soil. "Here?"
His opalescent eyes gleamed. "It is a good place."
The princess and I dug together, making the hole wider and deeper, getting dirt beneath our nails. The dragon watched and rumbled his approval.
I rummaged in the depths of my satchel and found the jar with three snowdrop bulbs nestled within it.
I breathed on them.
They answered. Faint; oh, so faint. But alive.
Tears stung my eyes. I laid the bulbs in the hole we had dug, thinking of Master Lo Feng, who had wanted so badly to bring them to Ch'in. Thinking of Terre d'Ange and my first intoxicating taste of joie, of the pageantry of the Longest Night and the beautiful licentiousness of Cereus House, the adepts of the Night Court indulging in every pleasure.
