Page 56 of A Song to Drown Rivers
Powerless, powerless, powerless.
The word echoed in my head like a taunt. And no matter where I looked, it seemed to stare back at me, that age-old curse. The maids sweating as they hurried from chamber to chamber, carrying old sheets and fresh water. The seamstresses walking in a single uniform line, their hands rubbed raw from holding needle and thread.
I did not realize where I was headed, who I wanted to see, until I threw open the doors to Zhengdan’s bedchambers.
“Zhengdan,” I cried out. My voice echoed, then fell into the still air, like a stone in an empty well. An odd scent reached my nostrils. I should have sensed it then, but I was too distraught, my breath choked out in sobs. All I could see in my head was the sword piercing Fanli’s chest, again and again. “Zhengdan. Zhengdan, are you—”
Then my eyes caught on her robes.
That was all I noticed, all I absorbed. I thought her robes must have fallen to the floor beneath her bed. She’d always been a little messy when it came to such matters, choosing to pile her dirty clothes together until she ran out of things to wear. But then I looked again, and my heart dropped. It wasn’t just her clothes, buther. She was lying sprawled on the ground, her eyes half-open. Her skin was a terrible color, paler than death.
An empty vial rolled next to her limp form.
“Zhengdan.” I crouched beside her, my fingers trembling. I couldn’t see any injuries. “What—I don’t understand—”
She was still conscious. She turned her head slightly, wincing,and frowned up at me. Fresh blood shone on her lips. “Have you been crying?” she asked, her voice a croak. “Did somebody hurt you? Tell me… who.”
I shook my head fiercely. My mind had gone white, devoid of any thoughts except: “I’m—I’m going to get the physician. They’ll know— They’ll be able to help you— Just wait—”
“They won’t come.”
“What?” I couldn’t make sense of it. I was panicking, my heart caught in my throat. “What do you mean? It’s their job— They have to—”
Her lips worked into a weak smile. “I mean they’re not allowed. I’ve already… been deemed guilty. Nobody can escape… punishment.”
“By who? Who wouldn’t—” I cut myself off. I knew, then. The bitter smell in the air seemed to sharpen, and I noticed for the first time the bejeweled dagger lying just out of reach of her fingers. It was an ornamental dagger, meant only to be admired, not used. I stared at the vial again. There was a special kind of poisonous ball made from herbs that dissolved the organs from within: It was the official punishment used for theft. “General Ma,” I said with a creeping sense of disembodiment. My voice didn’t seem to belong to me. “He framed you.”
“I should have… expected it,” she said, grimacing. Her breathing sounded fainter and fainter the more she spoke, like she barely had the energy left to do even that. “I—humiliated him—”
No,Ishould have expected it. Black bile filled my mouth. I had feared he would get his revenge one way or another, and this sort of cowardly trick—framing someone for stealing an expensive dagger—seemed exactly like something he’d do. I should’ve been on guard. I should’ve struck first, convinced Fuchai to have the general removed. Better yet, killed.
But just like with Fanli, I knew there was someone else behindthe scenes, pulling all the strings. Someone who’d always suspected Zhengdan and me.
“I don’t regret it though,” Zhengdan said softly. “It was… the best moment of my life. Seeing the… look on his face. Do you think… my father was watching?”
It was the first time she had mentioned her father in years.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Of—of course.”
“Good. Good. If only I could have… fought them all.” And she laughed, a huff of sound that quickly disintegrated into a horrible, hacking cough. She covered her mouth with a white napkin. When she lowered it again, it was speckled with blood.
My vision flashed red.
I was going to die.
I was going to kill someone.
“You still haven’t… told me, Xishi-jiejie,” Zhengdan whispered. “Who upset you? Perhaps—when I turn into a ghost… I can haunt them on your behalf—”
“Don’t say that,” I said sharply. I could feel the cracks forming under my skin, everything threatening to break apart. What would remain, even? I had nothing left. “Please,” I said, quieter, desperate. “I can’t bear it…”
“I‘m not scared… of dying,” Zhengdan said. “I just wish… I could accompany you for longer…”
“I’ll murder him,” I whispered vehemently, my nails digging into my palm. The images joined together in my mind: Zhengdan’s pallid face, her crumpled form; Fanli’s expression of silent pain, his limping figure. All that I held dear torn away from me, their suffering dangled right before my very eyes while I could only watch and pretend my heart wasn’t eating itself whole.Powerless, powerless, powerless.“I’ll cut him to pieces with his own sword.”
“Don’t, Xishi. I don’t want you… staining your hands… for me.” A violent tremor passed through her body. She winced andcurled up against herself, like an infant in a mother’s womb. Her eyelids drooped. “Why is it so… so cold in here…”
“It’s because the maids haven’t changed the firewood today,” I babbled, drawing her body onto my lap and covering her with my coat. She was so light she barely weighed anything at all. “I’ll start the fire later. Soon. And then—and then you’ll feel better.”
