Текст книги "Soundless"

Автор книги: Richelle Mead

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

CHAPTER 17

I’M HONORED AND FLUSTERED but also self-conscious, because by this point I’ve already told the village all I know. The current actions of the township and the army are as much a mystery to me as to everyone else.

Li Wei steps forward, bowing to the elders before speaking. If you’ll allow me, I can add to what Fei has told you. I spent the night as one of their prisoners, marching up the mountain pass. I couldn’t understand the guards, but a few of them can sign. I also met a prisoner—one of the plateau villagers—who has learned to read lips. Between them, I know some of what is happening.

By all means, Elder Chen says. Continue.

Once they realized Fei had made it back up here, they decided to do a forced march up the passes with the soldiers and some of the other village’s prisoners. They’ve apparently had this explosive powder for a while and could have cleared the passes long ago.

This leaves all of us dumbfounded for a moment. By now, I shouldn’t be surprised by the township’s cruelty . . . but it still comes as a shock. We’ve been beholden to the zip line system for so long, given no future except to mine for our survival. If the passes had been clear, we would have had access to trade and travel, not to mention the fertile valleys our ancestors allegedly grew crops in. But then, if we’d had those freedoms, the king and the township would have lost their source of metals.

Why open it now? I ask. It costs them their hold on us: If we can leave the mountain, we no longer have to mine for our food. They no longer get their metals.

That’s why they brought the soldiers and the other prisoners, Li Wei explains. They plan on doing one big push in the mines, using our people and the other displaced miners to get as much metal as possible while the soldiers stand guard and enforce their rule. They want to deplete the mine as quickly as possible, even if it kills the rest of us in the process.

All this because we found out the truth? I say in disbelief. Because I came back and told everyone what was going on?

Now Li Wei turns unexpectedly hesitant, glancing between our audience and me. It’s more than that.

What more can there be? I ask incredulously.

The soldiers interrogated Nuan, he says. They know your secret.

He is speaking carefully, I realize, to protect me. At this point, however, the secret he’s referring to is the least of our worries. I can hear, I tell the others, bracing myself for the disbelief to come. Most of them look as though they think they misunderstood, so I elaborate: It’s true. I have my hearing, just as our ancestors did.

What kind of lies are you spreading now? Sheng asks.

I’m not lying, I reply. I don’t understand how it happened, and I know it sounds crazy. But I can do any test you like to prove it.

It’s true, Li Wei confirms. I’ve seen her prove it. He gives my hand a brief, encouraging squeeze.

The others’ faces are a mix of reactions, both wonder and outright skepticism. Elder Chen looks thoughtful. Did it happen the day you stayed back sick at the school?

Yes, master.It had come to me the previous night in a dream. I was adjusting to it and had a headache. I pause to reconsider my words. Actually, I’m still adjusting. It’s a very . . . disconcerting experience.

Many in the room still look skeptical, but Elder Chen appears to take me at my word, and that faith in me means more than I can say. I would imagine so, he replies. And you think this has something to do with the township’s reaction?

Li Wei nods. When Nuan told them Fei could hear, panic arose among some of their leaders. Apparently the king has been afraid of this happening, that one of us would regain hearing. It’s supposed to be an omen of something, but I’m not sure what. I couldn’t follow all the other prisoners’ signs—they’re different from ours. But the king fears what Fei’s hearing could mean, and that’s why he wanted the mine emptied as quickly as possible. Fei’s hearing is a sign of some change, of something returning that could be a threat to him.

I remember Nuan’s reaction to my hearing and the sign she made. I mimic it and ask Li Wei, Was this part of what they thought was coming? What they feared?

He nods. Yes, something with wings. But I don’t know the sign.

I hear a sharp intake of breath and turn toward Elder Lian. She has gone very pale and looks at Elder Chen, who seems equally shocked. Do you think it could be true? he asks her.

It could be, if what has happened to Fei is real, Elder Lian says.

An apprentice leans on a rack of scrolls in the back of the room, causing them to fall with a clatter. It is out of everyone else’s eyesight, and I jump, startled by the noise.

Elder Chen smiles when he sees what made me flinch. I’d say what’s happened to her is real. And if the rest is as well . . . this could change much.

My patience is rapidly disappearing, and I’m itching to know what he means. I’m grateful that he believes us, that the others here have accepted us for the time being, but now that we’re out of immediate danger, I am growing restless. Zhang Jing is not here. Based on what Li Wei has said, the odds seem good she may have been rounded up with the others being forced to work in the mines. The thought of my sister captured and terrified nauseates me. I worry also about what will happen if they learn her sight is diminished. If they want to empty the mines as quickly as possible, they’re only going to want to keep the healthiest workers. I can’t abandon her and keep myself in this safety.

But the old habits of respecting my master are hard to shake off. And although I shift restlessly from foot to foot, wanting to go out and fight the soldiers, I force myself to wait patiently as Elder Chen gets up and walks to the other side of the room. Along with the scrolls, there are stacks and stacks of what look like old records. The amount of information stored in here rivals the library up in the school.

What is this place? Li Wei asks.

It is our emergency storage facility, to preserve our history, Elder Lian says, her eyes flicking to Elder Chen as he continues searching for something in the documents. In case something happens to the school, we keep copies of important documents as well as one record from each week down here. Admittedly, I don’t think any of its builders envisioned some catastrophe like this.

Elder Chen makes his way over to us, one of the scrolls in hand. He gives it to another apprentice, who kneels on the floor and spreads it open flat so we can read it. The illustrations practically jump from the page. Whoever made them was a fine artist. It is a scroll about mythical animals, a copy of the one he showed me that day in the library. There are dragons, phoenixes, and more, but it is the creature on the top of the page that he points to.

The pixiu, he says.

And as he makes the sign, I suddenly see how it derived from the one Nuan used.

I study the illustration. At a glance, the creature looks like some variant of a lion—another animal I’ve never seen in real life—complete with a mane. But closer examination reveals the head to have some similarities to that of a dragon, and there is a broad, sturdy nature to the creature’s back that reminds me of a horse’s. Then, of course, there are the feathered wings, which make it completely unlike a lion.

Beside me, Li Wei has grown excited. It’s like the story my mother used to tell, isn’t it? That the pixius made all hearing disappear when they went to sleep, so that they would have peace and quiet.

We know that’s not true, I say, thinking it would be a cruel thing for one creature to do to another. It’s the metals that deprive us of our senses.

Yes, I believe that part, about why we lost our hearing, is simply myth. But the rest of this scroll . . . Elder Chen gestures to it. There are certain details in it that make more sense now. It claims the pixius used to roam here, eating metal and protecting humans from “dangerous consequences.” It doesn’t specify what those are, but I think somehow the pixius’ presence must have protected us from the metals’ toxicity. It’s only when the pixius left that hearing began to disappear. He meets my gaze squarely. Fei, tell me exactly what happened the night you regained your hearing.

I do, recounting the dream and how I saw the village in despair. When all the villagers opened their mouths to cry out, sound returned to me—as well as that sense of connection that I haven’t been able to fully comprehend. Elder Chen nods as I explain, and then he seeks out another scroll. When he returns, I see it is even older than the other one, the paper fragile and flaking. He will not allow anyone else to touch it, and he kneels down on his old, weary knees to open it himself.

Most of the documents here are copies, Elder Lian comments as we watch Elder Chen skim for the information he seeks. Some are kept down here simply because they are so precious and rare.

The scroll is all text, no illustrations, and after a few agonizing minutes, Elder Chen finally looks up. It’s just as I remember. This document is from someone who claims to have lived among pixius, long ago. It says the pixius can form connections of the mind with people who are open to it, those special individuals who are able to fully visualize the world and its possibilities. I think you are one such person, Fei. And I think a pixiu was trying to tell you something. Here it says that the pixius bring protection and fortune to the righteous—that they respond to the cries of those in need.

Everyone stares at me again when he finishes, and I take a step back, overwhelmed. Master, I can’t be one of those people. There’s nothing special about me.

Isn’t there, Fei? he asks with amusement. You’re the only one of us who can hear. Somehow a pixiu has reached out to you. Your hearing is a sign of its mark. The fact that it showed your people crying out, just as this text says the pixius respond to such cries, is a sign.

It is the sign that the king fears, says Li Wei eagerly. Perhaps we can make a stand against the king’s soldiers if we can summon the pixius back.

What does that mean? asks another elder, speaking up at last. His name is Elder Ho, and it has been obvious to me since I arrived that he does not share Elder Chen’s faith in my story. We don’t even know why the pixius disappeared or if they’re even real. These scrolls could just be myth.

They’re real, I say, thinking back to that tug I keep feeling within me. I think back also to the moment I heard all the people crying out in my dream. At the time I was so overwhelmed by the strangeness of my first experience with sound that I couldn’t comprehend much else. But simultaneously, in the back of my mind, I felt that stirring—that otherness activated by the people’s cries, even in just a dream. And when the army attacked today and my people cried out erratically, I felt the stirring again.

What are you thinking, general? Li Wei asks, seeing me lost in memories.

I give him a faint smile at the old nickname before turning to the others. I can’t explain it . . . only that I can feel it, but I think Elder Chen is right. I think the pixius will respond to the cries of our people. I think back to the dream, trying to recapture it exactly. It must be all of them raised at once. And it must be loud. Intense, I clarify when it’s clear no one in the room understands what I mean by loud. That’s how it was in the dream. That’s what the pixius need.

Elder Ho still looks skeptical, but everyone else is warming to the idea. I wonder if it’s because they believe me or because they are so desperate after the terrible turn of events in our village that they’ll sign on to any plan that offers hope, no matter how farfetched.

We must tell them, says Li Wei. If the soldiers are going through with their plan, they will have rounded up most of the villagers to force them to mine. I will go back outside and let them capture me. Then I can tell the others.

I’ll go with you, I say promptly.

No, says Elder Lian. It’s too dangerous. If you’re known to them as the specific threat that might bring back the pixius, then you shouldn’t be out there.

And yet that is exactly why she must be in the midst of it, counters Elder Chen serenely. She is the connection. She cannot hide away if it is her very presence that will affect the transformation of what is to come.

It will still be chaotic out there, I say. Although I am speaking to everyone gathered, I purposely make eye contact with Li Wei. Something tells me he is the one who will need the most convincing that I should be in the line of danger. And although the soldiers may have my description, most haven’t actually seen me. They won’t think I’m different from any other villager.

Elder Lian nods thoughtfully. Perhaps we can help. Perhaps there is a way to make you harder to detect.

After a bit of consultation, a boy among the servants is forced to exchange his outfit for mine. Although I am still wearing pilfered boy clothes, these new ones are dull in color and more likely to blend in with the other villagers rather than mark me in the telltale blue of the apprentices. Elder Ho, to my surprise, gives me his hat, a small, nondescript cloth one that nonetheless hides much of my hair and is something generally only seen on men. A healthy dose of dirt smudged on my face goes a long way to complete the illusion.

There, says Elder Lian. At a glance, the soldiers will not think you are the girl they’re looking for. Most of our own people probably won’t notice you either. I imagine they have bigger concerns now anyway.

We discuss a few more points of strategy, and I am startled when several among the apprentices and servants want to come with us. We want to add our voices, explains the boy whose clothes I wear. Besides, you won’t be spotted so quickly if you’re in a group.

The elders agree but want to hold some people back just in case. While they make their choices, I try to remain patient, but the need to act burns within me, making me restless. I have one last hope about where Zhang Jing is, and I want to investigate it.

Li Wei catches me swiping at the dirt on my face. I can feel it and have to stop myself from wiping it off.

I look ridiculous, I remark to him.

He turns to me, touching my chin softly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. You’re as beautiful as ever. When this is over, we’ll find a reason for you to wear the red dress again.

I shake my head, feeling a tangle of emotions in my chest. I still can’t believe you’re here. You were captured because of me. . . .

Fei, I was captured because you were brave enough to return here. To save our village. You think it’s your artistic skill that’s your greatest strength? It’s not. It’s your courage. There is something in his eyes as he says this, something powerful and heated that reaches to my heart.

The elders give their blessings for our journey, and with that, we are finally on our way. Li Wei and I, along with our small cohort, traipse back out through the darkened tunnel, down to where Jin Luan still stands guard. She looks understandably startled to see all of us, more so when she finds out we’re leaving.

You’re going back out there? she exclaims. You’re crazy!

Possibly, I agree.

But her job is to stop people from getting in, not prevent them from leaving. She steps aside so that we can pass, and she surprises me with the first genuine smile I’ve ever received from her. Good luck, Fei.

Li Wei goes first, climbing up the ladder that leads into the woods and peering around to ascertain no guards are present. When he deems it safe, he beckons for the rest of us to follow. There are seven of us in total, and as we all gather there in the woods behind the school, I notice it is quieter. Earlier, when Li Wei and I had made our frantic trip here, I’d still been able to hear screams and destruction. I wonder if that means the soldiers have rounded up most of the village.

Now, begins Li Wei, I think our best plan is—

Not yet, I interrupt.

He looks at me in astonishment. What? We have to join the other prisoners.

We will, I say. But first we’re making a detour.

I know Li Wei well enough to recognize his frustration, but he stays composed in front of these onlookers. What detour is that, exactly?

We’re not doing anything until we find my sister, I say.

CHAPTER 18

LI WEI CONSIDERS THIS and shakes his head, his expression compassionate despite his obvious impatience. I would like to find her too, but we don’t have time to search the village. We need to enact this plan.

I know where she is, I tell him. I’m only half lying. It won’t take us that far out of our way.

After a little more coaxing, he agrees, and our small group sets out. We move covertly, keeping off the main roads of the village and concealing ourselves in the trees. Around us, we see signs of the army’s destruction, and smoke fills the air from the fires they’ve set. Most of the villagers seem to have been rounded up, but we still occasionally spot roaming bands of soldiers, and my hearing is able to alert us each time before we’re spotted.

Soon we make it to the opposite side of the village, to the path that runs near the cliffside. We approach the lone cypress tree where my parents’ ashes were scattered, and at first I think I am wrong. Then a slight form shifts, and I see Zhang Jing sitting against the tree, dangerously close to the cliff. The path shows the signs of many booted feet having gone by recently, but they apparently didn’t notice her concealed by the tree. I breathe a sigh of relief, glad to know my hunch was correct. That in a time of great danger, this is the place she would seek out for solace.

I touch her arm gently, and she flinches, at first not recognizing me with my strange clothes and dirty face. Then joy fills her tear-stained features. She leaps to her feet and throws her arms around me. Fei! she says when we have broken apart. I didn’t know what happened to you. Everything got so confusing. What is going on? Who are those people?

They are the king’s soldiers, I say. Now that we know the truth, they have come to try to enslave us. We have a plan to save ourselves, but first I wanted to make sure you’re safe. I glance back at the assembled apprentices and servants who have come with Li Wei and me. Someone will take you back to the Peacock Court’s underground storage rooms, where you can wait safely.

Zhang Jing shakes her head adamantly. No. Wherever you’re going, I’m coming with you.

I hesitate. While I’m quick to run into danger on my own, I’m less willing to get her involved. She is still my sister, still the one I protect, and I’d rather see her safely hidden away with the elders. But there is a fire in her eyes, and something tells me she is not going to go so easily.

I mean it, Fei, she says. Let me come with you. Whatever it is, I’m not afraid.

We can use her help, Li Wei notes. I can tell he is anxious about the delay. Plus, we won’t diminish our numbers this way.

I am part of this village, Zhang Jing adds fiercely. This is my fight too.

I can’t stand against both of them, and reluctantly, I agree. There’s at least a small comfort in having her within my sight.

We backtrack toward the village, still moving covertly. Li Wei scouts ahead, searching for roaming bands of soldiers. We want them to catch us, but walking right up to them is out of the question. Our capture has to look as “natural” as possible, raising little suspicion.

Li Wei comes hurrying back, his face a mix of nerves and excitement. Up ahead, he says. There are three soldiers patrolling.

We move in on the soldiers’ position, walking clumsily through the trees so as to make a lot of noise. The ruse works, and moments later we find ourselves surrounded by the three soldiers, who unwittingly think they’ve captured a group of hapless villagers trying to flee. We act appropriately frightened as they raise their swords—really, there’s not much acting required for that—and Li Wei makes it look as though he is about to run. This earns him a blow to the head that makes me wince, but it convinces the soldiers there is nothing special about our particular group. With swords still drawn, they surround us and march us back in the direction of the mines. I exchange a glance with Li Wei as we walk, and although he is careful to keep his expression appropriately cowed, I see a fierceness in his eyes as our plan begins to unfold.

Back at the mine, the number of captured villagers has swelled, and the chained prisoners who came up the mountain have joined the group. It looks as though there are still some people hiding within the mines, but the soldiers are busy keeping the gathered prisoners in line and seem to be engaged in some type of sorting. One of the soldiers in our group shouts something, attracting the attention of a man who seems to be in charge. He glances over at us, looking surprised. My guess is that they probably thought they’d captured everyone by now. A party our size is unexpected.

He strolls over and assesses us, making some quick decisions. With a few gestures, he splits us into two groups. One is me, Zhang Jing, the boy whose clothes I took, and another young girl. Li Wei is with the others in the second group. I realize immediately that we’ve been sorted by size and strength, and the soldier indicates that Li Wei’s group should join another similarly sized group. Zhang Jing and I are sent to a cluster of prisoners consisting mostly of smaller-sized women and young children. I catch Li Wei’s eye as we move in different directions, and the message is clear: The plan must proceed.

Beyond him, I see the soldier in charge speaking with one of the prisoners from the plateau. The soldier makes those unintelligible sounds, and the prisoner follows his face avidly. I realize this must be the man who can read lips. Moments later, he turns and speaks to Li Wei’s group, using the same sign language Nuan did: They are going to send you into the mines to work. They say if you are diligent and do as you’re told, your lives will be spared. Although his signs say one thing, his expression conveys something entirely different. The other prisoners notice this.

Is that really true? Li Wei asks.

The man hesitates only a moment before answering: Probably not. But what choice do we have?

I turn to look at the group clustered near me. There are soldiers surrounding us, but we are not under as heavy a guard as Li Wei’s group. We are not chained. Because we are smaller, they probably see us as less of a threat. Knowing that this is the moment we’ve been waiting for, I signal to a group of women on the other side of Zhang Jing. I keep my motions small, so as not to attract much attention from the guards. I think few of them can understand us, but I don’t want to take the chance.

Pay attention, I say. There is a way to save us all, but it requires everyone participating. When I give the signal, you must all cry out.

One woman looks at me as if I am crazy. Cry out? she questions.

I can’t blame her. Although we make involuntary cries and screams all the time—in fact, there is a great deal of sorrowful sound around me even now—it is not something my people deliberately do. After all, none of us can hear the sounds when others make them. Instead, it is a residual instinct, something we acknowledge we do in times of great emotion. There is nothing more to it—until now.

Yes, I say. Cry out. Scream. Give voice to your pain. You must all do it at the same time, and you must do it . . . I pause, remembering to put it in terms they’ll understand. You must do it with great intensity. You know the vibrations you feel in your throat? You must make sure they are very intense. Make your throat . . . shake as much as you can. Do you understand?

They stare at me in confusion, but one little girl bravely steps forward. I understand.

Her mother draws her back and asks, To what end? What can this possibly do? We are lost.

No, I say adamantly. We are not. I can’t explain what this will do, but you must trust me that it will work. It is our best shot at salvation—but it is imperative we all work together.

I work my way through the group, passing on the message. Looking across the clearing, I see Li Wei doing the same thing, discreetly signing so as not to attract the guards’ attention. It looks like he’s met with the same reaction. Most of the people are scared and skeptical that this bizarre request can accomplish anything. Yet, at the same time, they are desperate and see no hope around them and so are willing to take any chance offered to them, no matter how farfetched.

Trust me, I say for what feels like the hundredth time. This will work if we do it together. Put all your emotion into it—all your hope and fear, all your doubt and faith.

That particular word choice seems to resonate with the woman I’m currently speaking to. She nods, blinking back tears. Probably all she has left at this point are her emotions; giving voice to them, even if she can’t hear it, is all she can do. As I turn from her to see if there’s anyone I missed in this group, a flurry of hands draws attention in my periphery. An older woman wearing the clothes of a supplier is signing furiously.

It’s her! Fei! The one who started all this, she says. A few people near her do double takes, looking me over and starting with recognition.

Did she? asks another woman flatly. It seems to me it’s the township that started all this long ago.

Only if you believe her lies! exclaims the first woman. Someone call the guards over here! No doubt they are looking for her. If we turn her over, they will let the rest of us go!

Have you lost your wits along with everything else? I demand. They aren’t letting any of us go! They are going to work us all to death in order to deplete the mines. They’re starting with the strongest over there. When they’re wiped out, they’ll make us labor in their place. This plan—crying out as one—is our only hope.

But the woman who first recognized me is no longer paying attention. Unable to rally an immediate supporter, she has gone seeking a soldier herself. She finds one and tugs his sleeve, making signs he doesn’t understand. Irritated, he pushes her away, but she is insistent and resorts to simplified gestures, pointing at me through the crowd. The soldier regards me with a puzzled look. He doesn’t understand why she’s singling me out, but I am no longer beneath the soldiers’ notice. I wanted to stay incognito, but that moment has passed. The soldier enters the throng of women and begins working his way toward me.

Looking across the grounds outside the mines, I search for Li Wei over in his group. They are being herded toward the mine’s entrance, and I see Li Wei looking for me as well. It must be now, he signs to me, holding his hands high.

I nod in agreement and turn to Zhang Jing. The soldier has almost reached us. Now, I say, making my signs big and high. Now! Everyone cry out!

At first, the only voice I hear is my own. I put all my emotion into it, everything I’ve been carrying around for so long. I include my love for Zhang Jing and Li Wei in it, my grief for my parents, my fear for my village. The sound vibrates not just in my throat but through my whole body, sending waves of emotion radiating through me. I feel it on every level, with all my senses, and then I hear another cry echoing my own. It is Zhang Jing, raising a voice she cannot hear and filling it with the same emotional intensity that is burning within me. Beside her, another woman joins in. Then another. And another.

The soldier comes to a halt, looking around in bewilderment. He loses his interest in me and instead tries to figure out what is happening. The other soldiers on the grounds are equally perplexed. The sound has spread from person to person, in both my group and Li Wei’s. For those of us with hearing, it is both spectacular and heart-wrenching. My people have no idea how much grief they are conveying.

In my chest, I feel that faint fluttering of connection, and my excitement grows. It is working! We are being heard! I lift my hands and signal to those around me: More! More! Make it more intense—more vibrations! Tell others! They spread the message, and it ripples through the crowd. Looking over the heads of those near me, I can make out Li Wei urging on those around him as well. The voices grow louder, and I raise mine, calling out to the pixiu who has chosen me to help us. I feel another hard tug in my chest—but see no other immediate signs that this is working.

The guards, however, are starting to react. They don’t understand what’s happening, but they don’t like it. They begin saying things to us, the same command repeated, and my guess is they are demanding silence. The prisoners defy them—at least at first—and continue the cry. This angers some of the soldiers, and they start to resort to violence. The soldier near me cuffs a woman so hard, she falls to her knees. That startles a few others nearby into silence.

I raise my voice louder to compensate, urging others to do so, and the connection within me burns more brightly. The intensity is so great that it almost seems impossible for me to contain. It grows and grows—and then, abruptly, it seems to vanish. It’s almost like the sensation of a bubble growing bigger and bigger before bursting. I’m unsure what has happened, but I only let my voice falter a moment before continuing on more loudly than before.

Around me, others are losing faith, both because of a lack of any results and also because of the brutality of the soldiers. They are silencing prisoners by any means necessary, striking and felling indiscriminately. Not far from me, an old man cries out as a soldier knocks him to the ground and follows up with a sharp kick. It’s enough to scare a few others into silence, but I ignore it all, refusing to be cowed. I have no fear for what they might do to me.

Zhang Jing stands beside me proudly, voice uplifted, but when a soldier comes and knocks her down, she momentarily falls silent. I drop to the ground beside her and stop my own cry, too concerned about her. Are you okay? I ask.