Page 27 of The Cinders

‘The envoy from Manhao are returning on the morrow.Be sure to tell his highness he must be swift, and not delay here any longer.’

‘Yes, yes.Away with you now.’

He closed the panel and sighed as he turned around.‘His lusts for position and prestige will bring him undone.’

‘He merely does as he is told.’Xian pressed a hand to his stomach.During the night, Wenming had brought him a bowl of egg drop soup, but it was long since digested, leaving him hollow.

‘Doesn’t need to follow orders with such delight.’Wenming turned tired eyes to him.‘Be careful there in Manhao, won’t you?It is no place for gentle souls.’He glanced behind Xian, looking up to where the goddess stood tall.‘That shoemaker, perhaps you could find reason for him to travel with you?’

‘I would not ask that of him.’No matter how the idea lifted the heaviness that shrouded him.‘He is in great favour with Lady Tian, she would never allow it, even if I dared ask.’

Wenming studied him.‘If I may be bold, you could command he travels with you, your highness.That power is yours.’

Xian rubbed at his eyes, giving himself an excuse to tilt his head away from the daoshi’s regards.It was tempting to imagine that forthright and honest man with him on the journey, but Song Lim was far too bold; his tongue too quick to voice his thoughts.Xian did not wish for him to challenge Captain Duan again.

‘He has much to do here.And I have no such power, daozhang.’

Wenming grunted.‘Not now, so far as you see.But it will find you one day.I pray for it.’

‘Master, I thank you for tending me during the night but I know you are exhausted now.Let us part ways, so you might rest.’

The old man’s jaw tightened, and Xian feared he might regret what he seemed intent on saying next.To his great relief, the daoshi merely sighed.

‘Very well, your highness.Excuse my petulant mood, you have endured this long evening far better than I.Indeed, your tolerance and grace under such hardship is remarkable.’He paused, rubbing at the folds of skin beneath his neck.‘I’ll just say it…you do your mother’s spirit great honour, your highness.A child to truly be proud of.’

The air in Xian’s lungs grew stale.Even if he had known what to say, he could not have.He offered the daoshi a quick half-bow, his vision blurring, and excused himself after gathering up his overcoat.

His plain slippers lay at the door, reminding him he still wore those Song Lim had brought him; a marvel of craftsmanship, so near to glass in appearance but far from cold and hard.They had not rubbed his heels or pinched at his toes, despite wearing them all night long.With reluctance, he quickly slipped them off, bundling them in the folds of the pearl-white overcoat where their clarity made them all but invisible against the fabric.

He knew what he must do before he returned to his rooms and began his preparations.

With his plain shoes back on his feet, Xian hurried away, into a day that was sharp with the dawning of a dying winter’s morn.He did not tend left, towards his rooms; before he was set to work, Xian intended to go to the place that had gotten him into such strife yesterday.

As he hurried through the garden, he gathered pink plum blossoms as he went.Mercy preferred pink to the deeper crimson or white.He stepped carefully in the areas where the swans and cranes liked to gather, avoiding the messes they left behind.Their numbers grew larger every day as the marquess found new, prettier additions to add to his collection.

Xian was excited at the thought of showing the carp the shoes made for him.He’d never had something so uniquely his own to share with her.

The moment he knew himself out of view of prying eyes, he broke into a run, dashing in behind a great row of bamboo that rustled, like a crowd whispering.His plain slippers were sturdy, and soft enough for dancing, but he noticed now how they rubbed a little at his right heel, and pressed in against the smallest toe on his left.The shoemaker’s slippers had embraced his feet like a mother swan’s wing around her chick.

Xian glanced up at the sky, painted in the gentle peaches and subtle yellows of sunrise.A few tufts of clouds were pushed by a wind that was too high to bother the manor gardens.A serene view, but Xian knew from the way the fine hairs stood up on his arms and at the back of his neck that a storm lay at the edges of that graceful sky.He smelled the rain long before the thunder and lightning came to be; a dubious talent of his, that he shared with no one.

Xian reached the sunken garden where Mercy’s pond lay, having skirted through the white bark pines again, to avoid the guards.They were breaking their fast, seated as they slurped their noodles, and he barely had to keep himself hidden.He took no great care with the mud this time, knowing he could blame his visit to the shrine if he were challenged.

How did one day feel so different to another?Certainly, his upcoming travel worried him; he’d had an embarrassing attack of panic to say as much.But as he cradled the slippers against his chest, it was as though he held them as a shield against melancholy.He’d rested well, and a troublesome evening had turned into one of contentment.

‘Good morning, my lovely one.’He smiled and found his favourite place at the edge of the raised wall, where he could rest himself between the convenient gap in the stones, leaning in to sprinkle the plum blossom petals onto the water’s surface.‘Mercy?Are you there?I do not have long, but I must show you something astonishing.’

Water bubbled beneath one of the lily pads, strong enough to push the floating plant aside.From the depths rose the carp; scales gleaming orange and gold, like a flame that had found itself able to survive in the water.Mercy emerged with mouth widened, sucking down the petals he’d brought for her, her tail moving like the sheer curtains that hung in the marquess’s chamber when caught by the wind.

Xian glanced around, making certain he was alone, before he unfolded the overcoat.He withdrew a slipper, and had barely set it down before Mercy pushed up from the water; her tail moving in wide sweeps to raise her mouth above the surface.

‘Do you like it?’Xian laughed softly, lowering the shoe near to her.Mercy strained higher than he’d ever seen her manage, her side fins now fluttering and wet above the surface, as her weight balanced on her working tail.Her rounded mouth opened and closed, as though she gasped, over and over.‘They are wondrous, are they not?The shoemaker is a talented man.’

Mercy wriggled her body, splashing gently, and Xian liked to imagine she agreed with him.

‘He says these shoes were meant for me,’ Xian said, shy as the words left his lips.‘That they have found their owner.I don’t know about that, but they fit me well.’The carp turned about, a pirouette of remarkable prowess, then raised herself higher; almost her entire body free of the water.Xian’s amusement shifted to concern.

‘Careful now, the stones are sharp in places.’