Page 128 of The Poet Empress
Wei—but not the character fortail,orend,orlast. The same sound in the Tenshan language could have many meanings. Now that I could read, I could choose the one I liked best, so when I signed my name, it was with the Ancestors’ word forgreatness.
71AIR
From one branch, two azaleas blooming,
Fighting for a piece of the dawn.
The roots lie rotten, the leaves die weeping;
Come night, all the flowers are gone.
—GUAN TERREN, AZALEA DYNASTY, YEAR 631
(COWRITTEN WITH GUAN MARO; COLLECTED POSTHUMOUSLY)
It was a bright dawn, unusually cold for summer, when I went with Isan to bury his brother. Only a slight breeze stirred the pines and the larches. There was a sunrise, but it was gentle instead of spectacular, a thin haze of pink over the far mountains.
We were a small party. Isan and I led the way, with Kiran and Hesin following at a distance. A few guards and servants had come as well, to accompany us and to carry the casket.
“Do you mourn him?” I asked Isan, as we walked uphill under the quiet canopy.
“I mourn Maro, but you did not kill him.”
I nodded. There were still questions I had not had the opportunity to ask until now. “Why did you go to Guishan to help your brother with his selection?”
Isan kept his eyes on the trail ahead. “Partially as a front to give famine aid. I had heard many places had been hit hard, and seen the selection as an excuse to use my magic to help.”
I remembered all the fruit trees he had grown in Guishan—grapes and hawberries and pears. I remembered the Blessing that had grown a peach tree in my village. “And the other part?”
“To make my own bid for the throne. My advisors pointed out that Maro and Terren had long been maneuvering in the capital and among the Great Clans, and competing with them here was useless. They suggestedI take a different strategy—to gain the goodwill of the people, to angle for popular support. When the chance to tour the cities arose, they told me to take it.”
It did not disappoint me to hear it, as it might once have.
My final question was one I had been meaning to find the answer to, ever since I first arrived at the Azalea House. “My brother received a Blessing from you on New Year’s. It was a spark that went to his heart. What was it?”
“Oh, that.” He actually flushed a little. “That was… nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing useful, at least. When I was preparing my Blessings to give out, there were only so many useful spells I had—I do not have the same gift for literomancy as my brothers did, you ought to know. But I still wanted the firecrackers stuffed full and the people pleased. So I improvised. I put in what I could. Small pieces of magic, not much, but I hoped the recipient would find value in them all the same.”
For instance,I thought,a spark that inexplicably chose a child. One which showed that even an impoverished villager could be destined for greatness. I remembered Bao’s bug-eyed excitement, the hushed silence from the villagers, Ba standing up and declaring his son would grow up to change the world.
Yes,I thought, but did not say aloud.There had been value in that Blessing after all.
Isan—thank you.
Not long after that, we crested the peak. Little alpine flowers dotted the mountain in yellows and blues, and wild grass shivered with life in the breeze. The valley stretched out green and lush beneath us, cradling the Aricine River, and it all seemed a gentle assurance that the world went on turning, even when we were not around to see it.
We laid the bamboo casket down on the soft earth, lit some incense, and knelt before it. As I performed the funerary rituals, I glimpsed his ghost.
The boy I had met in the meadow appeared not ten paces away, slightly aglow, and there was a tiny, timid smile tucked between his cheeks.Nobody else seemed able to see him. Isan, Kiran, and Hesin were all finishing up their rituals, heads down, a few paces away.
“Terren,” I whispered, and stood.
The boy’s smile widened, just a little. Then he did something that astonished me. He clasped his hands together in front of his heart, palm over fist, and bowed deeply. A Tenshan gesture of respect, deference, and gratitude.
I did not hesitate before returning it. We stayed that way for a long time, our heads facing the green grass beneath us, our hearts beating in sync.
