Текст книги "Soundless"

No, no, Xiu Mei says. It has nothing to do with you. It’s the bowl. She opens her hand, revealing a broken shard. It is white porcelain, with a brightly colored design painted on it. Our master—the man who owns this inn—is very proud of his collection. The last time one of his employees let something get broken, our master had him hunted down and beaten. Later, the servant died of his injuries. She sighs again. Fortunately, the master isn’t due back for a while. My father and I have time to flee. Lu Zhu will probably go with us so that she’s not blamed in our absence.

We were hoping you could take us to the others who are like us, says Li Wei.

She shakes her head. I’m sorry. We must use every bit of time we have to leave.

I pick up the shard she’s set on the table and hold it to the light. The porcelain looks nearly identical to what I saw in the kitchen, with nothing particularly special about it. It’s the design that makes it unique, I suppose. I can’t be sure, but it looks like part of a phoenix.

Does your master inspect his art each day? I ask.

No, but he will instantly be able to tell something is missing from the wall, Xiu Mei says.

I look up to where the shelf is on the opposite side of the room. It is prominent enough to be noticed but too high for whatever’s on it to be viewed too closely. Glancing down, I study the design again. Do you have paints? I ask. If you got me a bowl from the kitchen, I could re-create this. Your master would never know.

Xiu Mei looks at me like I’m a crazy person. That’s impossible.

Not for her, says Li Wei proudly, catching on to my plan. If you replace the bowl, you and your father won’t have to run away.

That would be great, she says grudgingly, but even if you could do such a thing, we only have a few hours at most.

Just get me the supplies I need, I say.

Disbelievingly, Xiu Mei gets up to speak to her father and Lu Zhu. Minutes later, they have gathered at our table, bringing me a clean bowl from the kitchen, the fragments of the broken one, and as many paints as they could muster. Some look like household paints, the kinds used for repairs. Others are of a more delicate quality, and Xiu Mei explains that those are used for paperwork and documents. The colors aren’t an exact match, but I have enough of a variety to feel confident in what I can do. I arrange all the broken pieces together to get a sense of the original and then dive into my work.

All is silent for a while, and then Lu Zhu says something that makes Xiu Mei nod. She turns to Li Wei, and I see her sign in my periphery: You weren’t kidding. Where did she learn that?

In our village, Li Wei says. She is the most talented artist of all our people.

I set down my brush long enough to say, Hush. That’s not true.

Lu Zhu returns to serving tables. Xiu Mei and her father have a conversation, and then she tells us, I’ll go talk to my contact among the silent ones and see if she will meet with you.

Silent ones? Li Wei asks.

It’s what we call your kind, she explains. As long as you stay concealed here, you should be fine. My father and Lu Zhu will keep watch. Get one of them if you have any issues. I will return shortly.

She leaves the inn, and her father resumes his watch of the common room. I continue my work with mixed feelings. Part of me is anxious for Xiu Mei. Will my work be good enough? Will I only get them into more trouble? At the same time, I feel a secret thrill at being able to paint something that is simply beautiful. Until now, I’ve only ever dreamed of that, and it is a delight to imitate the intricate pattern of phoenixes and plum blossoms on the bowl.

I lose track of my surroundings and am startled by a soft sound that I recognize as Li Wei laughing. I glance up and see him watching me intently. What? I ask, pausing to set down my brush.

I think you’re tenser working on this than I was with the scorpion, he tells me.

I can’t help it, I say. There’s a lot at stake.

He nods, his smile fading. But you’re also into it—I can see it. There’s a light in your face as you work.

I can’t help that either, I tell him. I always see things—imagine them, I mean. Beautiful scenes. They burn in me, and I have to get them out.

Keeping you from this life and forcing you to work in the mines would have been a tragedy, he says solemnly.

I’m unprepared for that. With the recent flurry of activity since coming to the township, I’ve had little time to ruminate on all the unresolved issues between us. Now, looking at him, I’m surprised to see a mix of admiration . . . and an almost reluctant acceptance.

There’s more to it than that, I say. It wasn’t easy, that decision. Never think it was easy. I still—

You still what? he prompts when I don’t finish.

I shake my head and look away, unable to convey what’s truly in my heart. How can I explain that I have thought about him every day since we parted? That in that first year of officially being an apprentice, I constantly questioned whether I’d made the right choice in walking away from him? My desire to make art and for Zhang Jing’s security got me through many low moments.

My eyes come to rest on the bowl, and I suddenly stiffen. Now that I’m looking at the larger picture and not the individual shards, I notice that although the main design depicts a phoenix, the border appears to be a mix of all sorts of animals, both real and imagined. I see tigers, qilins, cranes, elephants, dragons, and more. I pick up each piece one by one and feel that strange tugging in my chest.

What’s wrong? Li Wei asks.

I set down a shard with a pixiu and a deer on it. This one in particular seems to resonate with me. Nothing. Just something from a dream.

The same dream that keeps disturbing your sleep? he asks sagely.

It’s not important, I say. I start to avoid his gaze again, and he reaches out, tipping my chin up so that I must meet his eyes.

Fei, you know you can trust me. I’m here for you. I always have been and always will be. Tell me what’s wrong.

You can’t keep rescuing me, I say.

Of course not, he agrees. You can rescue yourself—but perhaps I can give you a hand now and then.

I smile faintly, but there is an ache in my chest as I think back to that long-ago day, trapped in the rubble when a beautiful, glittering boy held out his hand to pull me out. A moment later I find myself telling him everything about the night my hearing came to me and the dream I had of everyone in our village opening their mouths in a single cry.

You think this pull you’ve been feeling is tied to your hearing? To why it returned? he asks.

I don’t know, I admit. I don’t understand why any of this happened to me.

I want to say more, but over his shoulder, I see Lu Zhu going about her work. Her pretty face is drawn with worry, and I remind myself I must help these people first. I can give in to my own worries later. I paint with a renewed vigor, conscious that time is pressing upon us. When I finally finish and compare my copy to the broken one, I am more than pleased at what I’ve wrought.

You did it, Li Wei says. It’s a perfect match.

Not a perfect match, I say. My blue is darker than the original.

Well, I’m no painter, but it looks amazing to me. His eyes lift to something behind me. And not a moment too soon.

I turn and see Xiu Mei hurrying through the door toward us. Our master is returning! she tells us once she reaches our table. I saw him on the way back and was just able to get ahead of him and— She stops when she sees my bowl, looking back and forth between it and the broken pieces I copied. That’s it? You did this?

I nod, suddenly feeling flustered. I can’t interpret her expression, and I fear the worst, that she’ll tell me it’s a ridiculous imitation and that I’ve just given her and her father a death sentence.

I don’t know what’s more incredible, she says, that you did it at all or that you did it in so short a time. There are renowned masters in the capital who would fight to take you on as an apprentice.

I already have a great master, I say proudly, thinking of Master Chen.

Xiu Mei gets rid of the broken pieces and then hands the copied bowl to her father. Careful of the wet paint, he cautiously places it on the shelf just minutes before the inn’s master returns. When he walks in the door, I can immediately see how he might order someone beaten for an accident. His face is narrow and drawn, and he has the expression of someone who is perpetually displeased with everything he sees. He scrutinizes the room as he enters, taking in the number of guests and how his employees work. His pinched eyes scan the wall of art but find nothing amiss, and I exhale a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. Continuing on his way, he snaps something loud and hostile-sounding at the kitchen boy, who scurries away in fear. The master then approaches Xiu Mei at the podium, and she greets him with a bow. A conversation ensues between them, and after another wary survey, the man stalks away.

When he has disappeared into a back room, Xiu Mei returns to us, grinning. He suspects nothing. Thank you.

It was my pleasure to help, I say honestly.

And now I can help you. Nuan is willing to speak with you later, closer to sunset. I have some duties to attend to and will take you to her in a couple of hours. Come. She beckons for us to stand up. I’ll get you some dinner.

Li Wei starts to hand her some of his coins, but Xiu Mei shakes her head. After what Fei did today, believe me, your dinner is paid for.

Li Wei’s eyes sparkle. Fei is the hero now. My daring feat with the scorpion isn’t so impressive anymore.

We all laugh at that, relieved that the earlier tension has lightened. I see other patrons eating in the common room and am puzzled as to why we wouldn’t just eat at our curtained table. We followed her out to another small staircase and go up one floor. The room she leads us into leaves me gaping.

I thought I had seen many beautiful and wondrous things since coming to the township, but this room puts them all to shame. Screens and tapestries fill it with color and whimsy, each scene lovelier than the last. I see goldfish swimming on a pattern of blue and white flowers, silver pheasants on a backdrop of black and blue. The scenes go on and on, and I feel like I could spend hours staring at each one. Jade vases of flowers sit in the corners, and the middle of the room holds a small low table of gleaming black wood. The far side of the room isn’t screened but is a made of a fine wooden mesh. When I get closer, I see that it looks down on the common room below. Ornate lanterns bathe everything around me in a gentle glow.

What is this place? I ask.

We call it the Egret Pavilion—even though it’s not really a pavilion. Xiu Mei rolls her eyes. The master is trying to emulate some of the really high-class inns in the capital.

This isn’t high class? I ask in disbelief.

Not compared to some of the ones I’ve seen, she says. But it’s fine for some wealthy guests who come through to host parties or eat a private dinner. No one’s renting it out today, and our master is busy. You won’t be disturbed. Relax, and Lu Zhu will be up with some food. As soon as I finish some accounting, I’ll take you to Nuan.

I’m so overwhelmed by the beauty of this room that I can’t help but bow to Xiu Mei. Thank you. I think you’ve done far more for us than we have for you.

Nonsense, she says. Meeting you has given me a lot to think about.

She leaves us alone in the exquisite room, and we pause to clean our hands and faces in bowls of crystal-clear water. Then we explore the space more closely, finding new and dazzling things to point out to each other. Before long, Lu Zhu slides back the door and enters with a kitchen boy. They set the black table with steaming bowls of noodles and vegetables, as well as cups and a small bottle of rice wine. The food is overwhelming in and of itself, but I find I am just as enthralled by the dishes it’s served in. The bowls are beautifully painted, and the cups are exquisite, made of amber and agate.

Such a table is almost too gorgeous to eat at, and I glance down at my muddied robe in dismay. I don’t feel worthy of this, I tell Li Wei.

How do you think I feel? he asks, gesturing to his semi-green shirt. There’s nothing a barbarian like me can do. But you . . . He walks over to where he set his pack down and astonishes me when he lifts out the vermillion silk he won in the scorpion match. I’d completely forgotten about it after everything else that happened. It moves like water between his fingers, and as he straightens it out, I see that it isn’t actually a bolt of cloth like I’d thought. It is a dress, high-waisted with a long, flowing skirt. He hands it to me. Here; it is for you.

Never have I been able to imagine such a texture. It is smooth and cool between my fingers and extraordinarily light. Up close, I see a pattern of golden plum blossoms worked into it. Putting it over one arm, I sign, For me?

Well, I’m not going to wear it, he says. Go ahead. Try it on.

I hesitate. With everything else going on, it seems so foolish . . . and yet I can’t help but be transfixed. All my time in the Peacock Court, I’ve admired those bits of silken trim on the elders’ robes. To be holding an entire garment of that wondrous material is almost unbelievable. I slip behind a screen of red bats and change out of my artist’s clothes. The dress is a little long for me, which isn’t surprising, given my size. A sash at the waist helps keep it in place, and on impulse, I redo the bun that holds my hair. When I step out from behind the screen, I see Li Wei over at the mesh wall, looking down on the common room. He glances up at my approach and freezes.

What? I ask in alarm, thinking I must look ridiculous.

It takes him several moments to answer. This, he replies. Remember when you asked me why I’d be so foolish as to risk being injured by the scorpion? He gestures at me in the dress. It’s because of this. And it would have been worth getting stung for.

Don’t say that. I feel a deep flush spreading over my cheeks. Let’s eat before the food gets cold. We’ve wasted enough time on my vanity.

Li Wei admires me for several more breathless moments. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed when he finally nods and sits down at the table. I sit opposite him, nervously arranging the full skirt around me.

The crate we received at the zip line was amazing, but this meal is on an entirely different level. Noodles are a rarity in the food baskets received in our village. We’ve certainly never had them cooked this way, simmering in a spiced broth of meat with the freshest vegetables I’ve ever tasted. The ones we receive are always a little wilted. The aroma is intoxicating, enough to make me take a break to eat. The taste is exquisite, and before long, I find myself licking the bottom of the bowl. Food has always been such a practical necessity in my world. I never dreamed of finding pleasure in it.

The rice wine I’m less enchanted by. One sip makes me gag. Li Wei laughs at my reaction, and I push my cup toward him. You can have mine.

He shakes his head, amused. We need to keep clear heads. He gazes around the room, that earlier look of wonder returning. Can you imagine living like this? Eating food like this? Having access to so much? Meeting people from all over the world?

I haven’t thought much about it, I say honestly. Maybe after we help our village, there will be time to learn more.

He frowns and looks as though he will argue, but Lu Zhu enters just then. She takes in my dress with a knowing look and sweeps away the empty dishes. Noticing our untouched wine, she returns with a kettle of tea and tiny porcelain cups. Non-medicinal tea is another luxury item in our village, usually only reserved for the elders. I feel decadent sipping it, and as I relax in my dress and the beautiful room, I wonder if Li Wei is right to dream of living in a world like this.

A new noise draws me up short. I go very still, listening to sounds I’ve never encountered before. They hang in the air like colors on a canvas, reminding me of when the blue thrush sang.

What is it? Li Wei asks.

I don’t know, I tell him, getting to my feet. But it’s amazing.

I go to the mesh wall and look down. Lu Zhu has returned to the common room and sits there with what I recognize from scrolls as a musical instrument. A pipa, I believe. She plucks the strings delicately, and I see that I am not the only one entranced. Several other patrons have gone silent, watching with rapt looks. Some place coins at her feet.

It is music, I tell Li Wei. He knows the term, but its nature is meaningless to him. It is wonderful . . . like a dream.

I’ve gained new insight as to how sounds can be helpful for communication and survival, but until this moment, it never occurred to me that sounds could be enjoyable too. The birdsong I’ve heard on our journey made me smile, but this reaches into my heart. Lu Zhu’s playing is a type of art. Listening to the pipa, I find myself relaxing as a tranquil joy spreads through me. The tension leaves my body, and I briefly forget about the woes of my village. Li Wei can’t experience the music like I can, but something in my mood must come through to him. He stands very close behind me, putting his arm around my waist to draw me near. At first, I stiffen as a new kind of tension and fear fills me. Moments later I find myself relaxing, leaning into him. There’s an overwhelming rightness to the moment that is difficult for me to articulate.

Forgetting the music, I turn to regard him, lifting my face toward his. He rests his hands on my waist, and his gaze is electric, running over every part of me. I never knew it was possible to be both elated and terrified at the same time. It takes me a moment to recover myself and find the words I need.

You . . . you can’t look at me like that, I tell him.

He lifts his hands to answer, his fingertips brushing my waist. Like what?

You know what, I scold.

Why? he asks, taking a tantalizing step closer. Because you’re an artist and I’m a miner?

I swallow, mesmerized by how close his lips are to mine. Yes, I say. And because . . .

He leans toward me, knowing I’m out of excuses. Because?

My heart thunders in my chest as I close my eyes and lift my face toward his. I feel drunk, not from wine but from being with him in this way. I realize it’s not even about the setting or the clothes or the food. What marks this moment is that for the first time in our acquaintance, there really is no rank here. No artist, no miner. It’s just us.

And Xiu Mei. The sound of the door and her entry into the room end the spell, and I jerk back with a start. Li Wei backs away too, and I know we must look guilty. If she noticed anything between us, she doesn’t comment on it.

How was dinner? she asks.

Incredible, I say honestly, still a little dazed. We’ve never had anything like it.

It was an exquisite experience, Li Wei adds.

I’m glad to hear it, Xiu Mei says. And I’m done with my work, so I can take you to Nuan now.

Li Wei and I exchange brief glances, both of us understanding the same thing. We must wake up from this dream. The interlude is over. It’s time to get back to the business of helping our village.

Your dress is lovely, Xiu Mei tells me. But you’ll probably want to change.

True, I say, wistfully touching the red silk. I wouldn’t want to get it dirty.

It’s less about that than where we’re going. Xiu Mei’s face darkens. Believe me, it isn’t a part of town where you’ll want to stand out. In fact, it’s not a place anyone really wants to go.

CHAPTER 12

PUZZLED BY HER OMINOUS WORDS, I don my artist’s clothes again and help Li Wei gather up our few belongings. Remember, don’t sign or draw attention to yourselves out in public, Xiu Mei warns.

Downstairs, the inn’s master is in the common room, but he pays little attention to us. He is speaking to some patron, his chest puffed with pride as he gestures to the art collection on the wall.

Lu Zhu gives us a wink and a friendly smile as we pass by her. Xiu Mei’s father simply nods, and something tells me he is glad to see us go. He might not agree with the king’s decree, but he fears for his daughter’s safety in speaking with us. Thinking of Zhang Jing, I can respect his protectiveness. I bow by way of thanks as we pass him.

Outside, the sun has sunk in the western sky, though the air is still warm and pleasant. Xiu Mei covers herself up again and leads us back through the twisting streets of the township. I might not be overly familiar with cities and towns, but it soon becomes obvious to me that she is taking us to a less than desirable place. The market we were in earlier didn’t smell great, but the odor is much worse here, making me frequently want to cover my nose. The streets are dirtier too, and the buildings no longer have much in the way of decoration. Soon we don’t see any real buildings at all. We’ve come upon a cluster of tents and a handful of dilapidated shacks. The people moving around this area don’t wear the colors or fabrics we observed in the marketplace, and they are all thin, just like us.

They’re also all signing.

Flashes of signed conversation that I observe appear to be the same type of language Xiu Mei uses. I think about the stories of how the language my village uses came from one used by our migratory ancestors. Xiu Mei’s guess, that our two peoples changed the language over time, makes sense. We’ve each added and dropped words until parts are unrecognizable.

Some of those milling among the tents recognize us as outsiders and stop to stare. Xiu Mei leads us to a threadbare tent, and we must duck to enter its low door. There, inside, an old woman sits cross-legged. Lines and wrinkles mark her face, and she is dressed in rags. Back at the inn, I felt poorly dressed, but here, my artist’s uniform, even with the splattered mud, appears luxurious. Xiu Mei bows and tells the woman, These are the ones I told you about. To us, she says, I must get back. I’m glad we met and hope you find what you’re looking for. Thank you for your help.

Li Wei and I bow. Thank you for yours, I say. When she is gone, I bow to the old woman. Thank you for speaking with us.

She indicates that we should join her on the floor, and we do. My name is Nuan, she tells us. Who are you? Where are you from?

We give her our names, and when I tell her we come from the mountain, she looks puzzled. I remember that this word was different for Xiu Mei too, and I wish we’d brought our paper and ink. Li Wei rummages through his sack and finds the stick I used to draw a game board. He draws the character for mountain, and she nods in understanding.

We use a different sign, she explains. She shows us how her people sign mountain. It’s different from ours, but I can see how both signs had a common origin. You can’t be from the mountain, she adds. I know everyone who came with us from the . . .

I don’t know the words she uses, and we must again pause to draw it out: plateau. Realization and shock hit me.

You’re from the plateau! I say. From the dead village! You’re one of the ones who escaped!

She watches my hands avidly, and I can tell she’s having the same issues I have, not always immediately grasping some words. She’s less able to follow along than Xiu Mei, but she understands enough to get what I’m saying and nods. Yes. But you aren’t from there.

We are from the top of the mountain, Li Wei explains.

Nuan looks so confused that for a moment I think she must not have understood his words. At last, she says, There are people at the top?

Our village, I say. We are miners, just like your village is. Was.

There is another mine? she asks, but she doesn’t wait for me to answer. Yes, of course. She pauses, gazing into space a few moments as she lets this new understanding settle in. That’s where the new metals are coming from. We’ve wondered for a long time how the supply lines were still running long after our village was shut down. Are you all like us? Deaf?

Yes, I say. And some people are going blind too. I draw the character for blind to make sure she understands, but she has already guessed. Looking saddened, she launches into a story, pausing when necessary to draw out words we don’t know.

It happened to us too. It’s the metals. There’s a contaminant that makes mining dangerous there. It gets into the air, in the water. Once removed from the earth, melting and other manipulation purifies the metal. But if you live and work around it? It’s deadly. It deprives us of our senses. Hearing is the first sense lost. Then, over many generations, blindness follows. It would not be worth the risk, except that the mountain is rich in precious metals—far richer than any other known source in the kingdom. And this king is even more ruthless about getting those riches out.

King Jianjun? I clarify.

Yes, she says. He and his predecessors have trapped people on the mountain for generations, forcing them to mine for their survival, masking it as kindness by sending up barely enough food to survive. And all the while, those closest to the metals suffer greatly.

Understanding hits me like a slap to the face. The shock is so strong, it’s a wonder I don’t go reeling. Zhang Jing, I say. Nuan looks confused, and I clarify. My sister. She isn’t a miner, but she has been losing her sight. But now it makes sense: Her observation post is in the mine. She is exposed to all the same toxins—just like you, I add, glancing at Li Wei.

I’ve worked in there for years and still have my sight, he tells Nuan.

She shrugs. It affects people differently. Some can fight it longer. And the direst effects take generations to build up. But it will only be a matter of time now. That’s how it was with our people. Once the first cases of blindness came, the ailment ran rampant within a year.

Li Wei and I look at each other again, both thinking about how the blindness in our village first became noticeable a few months ago. We need to get them out of there, I say. If you and I climbed down, so can the others. It will take time, but it will be worth it if it saves them.

Perhaps . . . but I think we’ll have a hard time convincing them, Li Wei says grimly. You’ve seen how they are. They resist change. And that’s if they even believe us!

We must make them believe, I say adamantly, thinking of Zhang Jing and Master Chen. Lives depend on it. We must get them out.

He shakes his head. Fei, it was hard enough getting the two of us down! How will you move three hundred? Especially with children and the elderly?

How can you talk like this? I demand. When we started this quest, you spoke about helping our whole village! You acted as though we could do the impossible. Do you only talk about courage when the task is easy?

A spark of anger flashes in his eyes. You know I’m up for difficult tasks—but that doesn’t mean I’m foolish either. Assuming we can miraculously get all those people down the mountain, where will they go? To tents like this? What kind of livelihood can they possibly have beyond the mines?

There must be other places to go in Beiguo, I insist. You saw all the travelers at the inn.

Nuan watches our conversation thoughtfully, carefully keeping out of our dispute. Is your mine still active? It’s not empty?

I look to Li Wei for confirmation, and he responds, Believe me, if we were running out, there’d be a panic.

Nuan sighs, and I’m fascinated at how a simple exhalation of breath can convey such sadness. It would be better for you if it were empty, she says unexpectedly. If you truly want your village to escape and find a new life. Once, in our history, a number of villagers attempted it, and the king’s men stopped them. They needed slaves to keep working our mine. It was only a year and a half ago, when the mine went empty just as the blindness came, that they didn’t bother stopping us anymore. There was no need. They had what they wanted from us and didn’t care where we went. So here we are. She lifts her hands, indicating the threadbare tent. Gone from one prison to another. Here we live in this squalor, second-class citizens who are scorned by the others. Sometimes we get work. Sometimes we simply live on scraps.

Li Wei looks at me expectantly as Nuan’s words confirm how difficult it will be to find a new existence for our people. I ignore him as I answer back. But there is food here. At least it’s available. And you’re away from the toxins in the metals. It would still be a better life for our people.

Nuan shakes her head. I’m telling you, they won’t let you go. They need your village to keep working the mine. The king covets those metals too much. It keeps him rich and in power.

But if our village goes blind, no one will be able to mine anything! I protest.

They don’t care, says Nuan. My villagers’ lives, yours . . . they are nothing compared to riches in the eyes of those more powerful than us.

We sit there and let those words sink in. Finally I turn to Li Wei. We must take this news back to our village. We must let them decide and weigh the options.

I can tell from his expression that he wants to protest, to tell me again that the task is impossible. But as he gazes into my eyes, he finally gives a reluctant nod. I will help you take this news back to the elders, he says. Perhaps they will have an idea we haven’t thought of. I can tell he doubts it.

Be careful, says Nuan. If any official realizes you’re here, they aren’t going to like it. They won’t want your village knowing the truth.

Someone does know we’re here, I reply. The line keeper. And Xiu Mei thought she saw soldiers looking for us as well.

We tell Nuan about our initial encounter, how the man told us to wait but how we ended up sneaking away. When we finish, Nuan remarks, All of them are appointed by the regime. He probably ran straight to the king’s men. You were right to leave.