Serpentine (12 page)

“Do you love her?” Skybright’s voice was so soft that Zhen Ni had to lean forward to hear her.

Her mistress shook her head, her loose braids unwinding further so that her thick hair tumbled across her shoulders. “Oh, Sky. What does it matter?”

“So it means nothing to you?”

Tears sprang into Zhen Ni’s eyes, those expressive soulful eyes that shone now even in the dim reception hall. “It means everything to me.” She brushed her fingers across her eyelids, her hand then straying to her mouth, lingering there. “Lan means everything to me.”

“But she’s a
girl
.”

Zhen Ni’s laugh was short and strangled.

“What would your mother say?” asked Skybright.

Zhen Ni winced as if Skybright had slapped her. “I’d tell her I was practicing for the sake of my future husband.”

Skybright turned from her mistress. How could she explain? She’d known her entire life that her mistress would be betrothed to a good boy from a well-respected family. That she would follow as her handmaid. She had prepared for this eventuality, that her mistress would give herself to her husband, that she would fall in love. Still, this future husband would be excluded from their lives within the inner quarters—from the world of women.

But this. She had never imagined this. That Zhen Ni’s affections would be for another girl. Another girl just like Skybright, only higher in station. That
a girl
should steal her mistress’s heart and be both friend and lover to her. What did Zhen Ni need her for now then? Not for companionship. Not even to serve her. Rose could easily replace her as handmaid. “You’ve no need for me any longer.” Her voice quavered, even as Skybright fought against it.

She felt Zhen Ni’s hand on her shoulder, and she gently turned Skybright so they were facing each other again. “Of course I do.”

Skybright bit her lower lip and stepped away from Zhen Ni so that her mistress was left with her hand still raised, clasping nothing. “No matter what you say, I will always only be your handmaid, and you, my mistress.” Her entire life had revolved around serving Zhen Ni, and it meant nothing. Skybright’s only other alternative to this life—the only life she had ever known—was abnormal and monstrous. “You use me to conspire. To keep your secrets.”

Zhen Ni’s fingers clenched into a fist. “We’re sisters, you and I.”

“Everything I’ve ever done is because you commanded it of me,” Skybright whispered.

Her mistress’s hand dropped, heavily and without grace. “You love me because I command you to?”

No.

She loved Zhen Ni because she was full of irrepressible life and adventure, of wild notions and mischief. Because she was brave yet irreverent, utterly selfish but totally giving. She loved her mistress because it was she who tended to her scraped elbows and knees (even if they were mishaps due to Zhen Ni’s ambitious exploits). She was the one to rush to Nanny Bai when Skybright, at seven years, had swallowed her front tooth by accident, dribbling blood all over her chin and screaming at the top of her lungs, the one to insist that she be dressed in the prettiest tunics and shoes possible, so they appeared more like sisters rather than mistress and servant. She loved her mistress for all of this and more.

But she didn’t tell her any of these things. She wanted to hurt Zhen Ni as much as she had hurt her. Instead, Skybright said, “Come. The rooster has crowed. I should dress you for the day.”

Head bowed, Zhen Ni shuffled back into the bedchamber.

Feeling wrung out, Skybright followed, and opened the lattice windows, as she did every morning. The faint light of dawn washed the bedchamber in muted dream-like colors. The large platform bed stood empty, strewn with brocaded cushions and a crumpled silk sheet.

Lan had sneaked away without either of them noticing.

The mood was subdued that day. Zhen Ni and Lan spoke very little and laughed not at all. They sat far from each other, making sure no parts of their bodies ever touched, their faces pinched in misery. Lan actually seemed physically ill, unable to look at anyone, her complexion sallow. She folded into herself, as if her stomach ached, and she appeared even younger than her sixteen years.

Zhen Ni spent the entire day casting anxious glances in Skybright’s direction, worrying her lower lip until the skin broke and bled. Normally, Skybright would have stopped her before she drew blood, would have given her reassurances, massaged her shoulders, but today, she kept her distance and remained silent.

Her mistress should know her well enough to realize she would never give her and Lan’s secret away. Her loyalties, no matter what happened, were to Zhen Ni. But then, she thought she had known everything about her mistress as well, until this morning. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t now conceal secrets of her own.

Was this what growing up, becoming a woman, meant? To show only certain, acceptable sides of yourself to others, even to those you love?

Skybright dozed throughout the day, emotionally and physically exhausted. Zhen Ni didn’t request any tasks of her, so she followed her and Lan from the fish pond room into the garden pavilion, from there to the main hall, and then to the stone benches beneath the crabapple trees by the waterfall. They drifted from one location to the next like silent ghosts, with Pearl and Rose chattering behind them.

She dreamed strange, intense dreams during her short naps. Being chased by giant looming shadows as she slithered, the terror heavy against her chest. Lying by the creek kissing Kai Sen until it felt as if her soul was pulled taut with desire. Stone’s perfect and handsome face hovering above hers, like she had just woken and he was peering down at her.

You are one of us, daughter of Opal. The monks would kill you without hesitation.

Skybright jolted awake, the cushion she had leaned against falling from the bench. Zhen Ni was watching her intently, her embroidery sitting neglected in her lap. Her shoulders slumped, but she straightened when Skybright woke. Her mistress attempted a timid smile, but Skybright dropped her chin and didn’t return it. How could Zhen Ni have fallen in love with another girl? Did her mistress have the same feelings for Lan as she did for Kai Sen? Did her skin tingle from Lan’s touch? Did blood roar in Zhen Ni’s ears, too, when they kissed? The notion seemed so strange to Skybright. But she knew her mistress well, and she knew from observing Zhen Ni that her feelings for Lan were true.

She was still angry with Zhen Ni. But Skybright missed her mistress like she missed a part of herself—a limb or organ—missed the ease and familiarity of their relationship. Although what was the point of a true reconciliation now, of growing close again? Skybright wasn’t the girl Zhen Ni had grown up with, the one she said she loved as a sister, the one she thought she knew.

What would happen if she told Zhen Ni the truth, if Skybright revealed her serpent form?

It wouldn’t just be the monks, she was certain, who would turn on her.

They went through the usual rituals of preparing for bed. It wasn’t a bath day, and Zhen Ni didn’t ask for it specially. So Skybright undressed her, then washed her mistress’s hands and feet in rose water before wiping her torso and back with a damp cloth. What had been routine for years was awkward this evening, in their strained silence, as Skybright sponged her mistress’s skin, knowing Lan had seen and touched Zhen Ni in a very different way. She then fetched another bowl of scented water so her mistress could wash her face.

After, they sat in front of the vanity and she unwound Zhen Ni’s hair, brushing it over and over until it gleamed in the lantern light. “I won’t tell anyone,” Skybright murmured.

Their eyes met in the bronzed mirror. “I know,” Zhen Ni said. She took the brush from Skybright’s hand and set it on the vanity. “You have a right to be angry. We tell each other everything. It’s just … you haven’t been yourself lately.”

Skybright’s heart constricted with longing to tell her mistress the truth, knowing that she never could. Her secret was as effective as any high wall, separating them, driving them apart. Finally, she said, “You can’t wed a girl, mistress.”

Zhen Ni pulled a face, then pressed her lips together. “You’re right. I can’t. But I need not wed at all.”

Skybright shook her head, feeling worn. Weary.

Zhen Ni turned and caught her wrist. “We can go into town tomorrow to buy ornaments for our hair? Or take a picnic to the creek?”

“We’re in the midst of the Ghost Festival. The abbot has warned us of evil omens and dangers this year. I think it’s safer to stay within the manor—enjoy your time with Lan.” Skybright drew the silk sheet back and arranged the cushions on the bed just as Zhen Ni liked them. “I won’t interrupt you again, mistress.”

Zhen Ni glanced down, but not before Skybright caught the deep flush that spread across both her cheeks. She bade her a peaceful evening and left Zhen Ni standing by the platform bed alone, reminding Skybright of a bride without a groom.

“Skybright.” The whisper was so hushed she thought she imagined it.

She had snuffed the lantern a while ago, but, although she was exhausted, found that she had too much on her mind to fall asleep. Someone whispered her name again, and it was nothing like the murmuring chaos of the ghosts. It sounded like Kai Sen. She quickly pulled her cloth shoes on and slipped into the darkened courtyard. The sweet fragrance of honeysuckle filled the air, and she breathed deep, admiring the scent.

“Skybright?” His hushed inquiry came from the back alley.

She walked down the narrow corridor and peeked around the corner. Kai Sen stood, like a dark phantom, in front of her makeshift ancestor altar. She had replenished it before retiring for the evening, and the sandalwood incense still lingered in the air.

“What’re you doing here?” she whispered.

He was beside her in a few quick strides, sweeping her into his arms in a tight embrace. Her cheek pressed against his chest and she drew in the familiar, comforting scent of him. They stood like that for a few moments before she disentangled herself.

“I didn’t know where you slept. I came hoping that perhaps you’d hear me calling you.” He cupped her cheek in one hand and she felt her entire body warm to his touch. “I thought it unlikely but I had to try … ”

“My bedchamber is just on the other side of this wall.” She tilted her head so she could see his face, but his features were obscured in shadows. “What’s wrong?”

“The hungry ghosts were right. There’s a breach in the underworld; the undead and demons have arisen too. I’ve seen them.” He had been cradling her elbows and his grip tightened as he spoke. “I’ve killed them.”

Skybright remembered seeing Kai Sen battling in the distance while she hid within the trees. “Goddess. Are you all right?”

His head dipped lower, so she could feel his breath when he spoke. “It’s gruesome. I had never killed anything. I’d thought the abbot’s notion of actual demons existing was … absurd. Those texts are hundreds of years old, some over a thousand years. What relevance could they possibly have?” Kai Sen gave a rueful chuckle. “He always did say I was too flippant in my attitude. I learned a hard lesson last night.”