Page 14 of A Song to Drown Rivers
“Mama,” Susu sobbed, pulling back from my arms, her short legs thrashing. She was strong for her age; each kick was hard enough to bruise, but I didn’t let go. “I’mscared. Mama, take me to find Mama—”
“She’ll be back,” I whispered, desperation squeezing my throat hoarse. I was trembling. Through the crack in the closet doors, I could see the soldiers storming into the room. Two men, their dark hair cropped, their swords stained with blood. “Just stay here, and we’ll be safe, I promise. Don’t go out.”
Susu shook her head furiously and twisted her torso away from me, wrenching her arms free. The sleeves of my robes were damp with her tears. Her tiny fists pushed against the closet door—
“Susu—”
I tried to grab for her. I tried to reach for the doors. But my fingers curled around nothing, and in the instant she stumbled out from the closet, a terrible physical pain seized my heart.
No.
Not now.
The illness that had plagued me since childhood. The curse I could not cure. My body failed me; it felt as though someone had thrust a spear into my chest, the blade sliding between my ribs. I doubled over, gasping, useless, as Susu walked straight into the soldiers.
Please.
Don’t hurt her.My mouth moved silently over the words, the pain burning through my blood.She is only a child. I promised to teach her how to ride a horse, and braid her own hair, and tomorrow our mother is making her favorite lotus root soup, which she has been looking forward to for weeks. This war—your territory—the differencebetween kingdoms—it means nothing to her. It means nothing at all. Just let her live.
When the sword rose, I searched the soldier’s face. I did not know what I wanted to find—perhaps the faintest trace of hesitation, of remorse, of self-loathing. But it was like staring into a tiger’s eyes as it mauled its prey. There was only darkness. The gleam of violence.
The sword streaked through the air.
Blood splattered the floor. Her blood. The blood we shared.
And I was screaming, screaming until my throat split open, until I could taste the copper on my tongue, until I couldn’t see her anymore—
My eyes snapped open. I lay on the bed, my hand clutching my chest, remembering how to breathe. There was an ache in me, like a decayed tooth.
Susu.
Across the room, under a sliver of filtered moonlight, Zhengdan turned onto her side, snoring softly. Outside, the branches rustled, a cicada chirped, the river water flowed onward. All was peaceful. But something about it felt unreal, likethiswas the dream. Perhaps I had not been awake since Susu was taken from me.
For the rest of the night, I stayed staring up at the ceiling, my fingers itching with the promise of revenge.
CHAPTER FIVE
In those early days, Fanli would always seek meout by the lotus pond. Sometimes he wore robes of inkstone black, his sash belt embroidered with the finest gold threads, creating repeating patterns of open magnolias, layered clouds, cranes in flight. Sometimes he was dressed in silver, his broad sleeves floating in the breeze and flowing like water, soft and ethereal, and he would wave a white fan to match. I could not decide which appearance suited him more: god of war, or muse of poets. To me, he was both.
“We are learning something new,” he told me one morning. He was in pure black, the smooth planes of his face made colder by contrast. “I believe you are ready.”
“For what?”
In response, Fanli merely called: “Luyi. Bring it here.”
The guard ambled out from behind the covered corridor, carrying a long wooden instrument in his hands. I recognized it from its distinctive features, rather than my own experience: the silk-thin strings stretched horizontally across it, the warm gleam of thewood under the sun. One end was curved and slightly wider than the other, and it was so large that if it were stood up next to me, it would be taller than my shoulders.
“Hurry up,” Fanli told Luyi, but without any real impatience. “Don’t tell me that instrument is too heavy for you.”
Luyi made an exaggerated pout and walked no faster. “After searching every spot in the mountains the other day? Consider it a miracle I can even hold my body upright. My leg muscles are still sore.”
“Do you truly care so little about your reputation as a guard?” Fanli said dryly. “Nobody will hire a guard who whines just because he was made to climb a few miles.”
“Afew?” Luyi repeated, indignant, setting the zither down before us with a loudthud. “I doubt even the Kunlun Mountains are so high. And better yet, if nobody else wishes to hire me”—he grinned—“you’ll be stuck with me all your life.”
“Incredible.”
Luyi’s grin broadened. “I am, aren’t I? About time you took notice.”
