Chapter 21
“Why are you taking them to the seal?” I hissed at Ren.
It was early morning the next day, the sun not yet risen, and we sat once again in the cart, which was attached to a dark-brown horse—stolen, most likely.
Anshi commandeered the saddle, her subordinates having remained at the barn to await further orders.
It was bold of her to assume she could handle the two of us alone.
But then again, we were bound and travel-worn.
Ren winced as we drove over a dip in the road, the cart jostling violently. His fever had improved after some rest, though his face retained a worrying pallor.
“We want the same thing,” he answered my question in a low voice.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We both want to end the conflict between Wen and Sian.”
“How do you know she won’t kill you after she gets the seal?”
“If she wanted me dead, she would’ve killed me already,” he said. “But my gut tells me that isn’t what she really wants.”
“Your gut,” I echoed.
“Yes.” He grinned. “You can also call it a prince’s intuition.”
“You must know how ridiculous that sounds.”
“Believe me or not,” he said with a shrug. “But we don’t exactly have any other options, do we? At least we’re not heading back to Wen right now.”
He wasn’t wrong, I thought begrudgingly. “So how does giving Wen the seal end the conflict?”
“Perhaps it will give my father pause, and a more amicable solution can be found.”
“That’s very idealistic of you.” I glanced at Anshi to make sure her back was to us. Still whispering, I said, “Since when do you care so much about Wen-Sian relations?”
At that, his expression sobered, the humor evaporating from his eyes. “Since I saw how many people have killed and died over it.”
I knew he was thinking of those we’d encountered on our journey together—Liu Chunhua, Yuyan, and the villagers in Xiatang.
Perhaps the world could use more of his idealism.
Perhaps the simple desire to make things fair for all was what our leaders needed to focus on.
Not the petty fights and underhanded skirmishes.
Not the loaded messages and poisonous rumors.
Just communication—the way Ren had listened and talked to Anshi.
The rest of the trip continued bumpily and quietly.
Anshi didn’t bother speaking to us, more focused on the road.
I occasionally peeked at Ren to make sure his fever didn’t reappear.
He caught me every time, returning my worried glances with reassuring smiles and the occasional comment on the moving landscape.
As a precaution, I’d been permitted to give him a new talisman. Outwardly, he held himself with ease, but I felt as if he were a paper doll animated by sheer will.
With the horse-drawn cart, the journey to Baimu took less than a day. The sun was just beginning to set when we arrived at our destination, though the gathering clouds made the sky appear darker. The sight of my hometown skimming the horizon struck me so suddenly, I had to pause to take a breath.
Up on a slope and behind a smattering of trees was our monastery, and I could imagine Baba and Lilan sitting down for supper or strolling through the corridors, lighting the braziers for the evening.
I envisioned them talking about their day over a pot of tea, perhaps even looking out the door and wondering when I’d be home.
My daydream was interrupted by Ren gesturing to the small wood that cradled the eastern edge of the village, just left of the Moon Cloud Monastery. “I left my father’s seal in that forest.”
“Do you remember where exactly?” I asked, studying the red-gold trees. Fortunately, the wood would provide sufficient cover. I doubted Ren’s presence would bring misfortune to innocent passersby, but I didn’t want to startle any of the villagers who stumbled upon his talisman-shielded face.
“I left markers so I’d be able to remember,” said Ren. “It shouldn’t take long to locate.”
I nodded, instructing Anshi to stop outside the village boundaries, near the forest. She tied the horse to a tree near the side of the road.
I glanced at my hometown, thinking, as always, of Baba. I yearned to see him—to hear his voice and squeeze his hand and tell him my worries—but it was best to finish Ren’s business first.
Anshi seemed equally impatient.
“Well, Your Highness,” she said, holding her arm out toward the wood. “Lead the way.”
Ren nodded and set off at a surprisingly fast pace. As we stepped into the shadowy shelter of the trees, he examined the boughs we passed, lost in concentration.
“Do we have to be bound like this?” I asked Anshi, holding up my wrists. “It’d look suspicious to any passerby.”
“Fortunately, we’re in a forest, and no one else is here,” she replied tartly. She carried my staff in her hand, and I wished I could wrest it back. I felt so helpless without it.
Ren reached for a crook between the trunk and branch of a maple tree, plucking something small and round from it.
“Did you find it?” I asked, approaching him.
He tossed the object into the air, catching it playfully, then uncurled his fingers to reveal the unassuming red stone in his palms. A delicate jasmine flower was painted in the center. “Just a marker.”
“A rock?” said Anshi, arching a brow.
“I used to collect rocks on the palace grounds,” Ren explained. “I’d find the smoothest ones and paint over them until I gathered a small collection.”
“What for?” I asked.
“Does every activity need a reason?” He smirked, chucking the stone toward me. I caught it clumsily and brushed my thumb over the cool paint. “It was a mindless pastime to keep my hands busy. Besides, I found pleasure in the colorful array of those rocks.”
I slipped the stone into my pocket. “And you just carried them around with you?”
Ren left the tree and resumed the search for his next marker. “I brought a small pouch with me when I left the palace, as a keepsake. But the stones turned out to be more useful than that.”
We moved quickly against the darkening sky.
Anshi eventually lit a lantern to illuminate our path.
The ground started to slant as we moved farther up the incline.
Within the next half hour, Ren found the remaining seven stones he’d left in the wood, each painted with a different kind of blossom or greenery.
As he pocketed the final marker, Ren balanced on a thick root and surveyed the area. He smiled triumphantly as he pinpointed the hiding place of his father’s token—a camphor tree bearing clouds of gold-flecked leaves.
I stared at the tree, feeling a sense of familiarity. A heartbeat later, I realized it was the same tree I’d gotten stuck in saving Lilan’s stupid cat. The same tree from which I’d crawled down a sheet into my father’s safe arms.
An ache bruised my chest as I thought again of Baba—his kind smile and gentle manner. His good-humored disapproval at my work ethic. His calming aura, which permeated every room he walked into. And the possibility that I’d never see those things again should I fail my mission.
I shoved the worrying thoughts aside and trailed behind Ren as he stopped at the base of the tree. I expected him to stretch toward another branch. Instead, he slowly circled the trunk, running his hands across the gnarled bark.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he slipped from view.
“Just a moment,” he called from the other side of the wide trunk. “I’m looking for the face of an old man.”
Anshi frowned. “The face of an old man?”
“Ah-ha!” Ren crowed.
Anshi and I stepped gingerly over the bumpy forest floor and joined him on the opposite side of the tree. He gestured at a knot in the wood. “Doesn’t it look like a surprised laoye?”
I peered at the shape. Indeed, it resembled a grandfather with drooping eyes and a sweeping beard. And there was his mouth, a shallow hole in the tree.
“Is that where you hid the royal seal?” I asked.
“A clever spot, yes?”
“Not if this forest were ever to catch fire.”
Anshi let out a quiet snort, surprising me.
“One should never tempt heaven.” Ren slid his fingers into the groove, feeling for the heirloom. When he drew back his arm, his fist didn’t fully cover the object in his hand. “Here.”
Anshi and I moved nearer to examine the coveted seal, which resembled a jade dragon nesting atop a rectangular base.
A pearl rested on the dragon’s tongue, and beneath the base was a series of carved characters blessing the king’s reign.
I stared at the seal, wondering how such a small trinket could bear so much power.
“This seal belongs to the governor of Wen,” Anshi said, the light of her lantern warming the smooth green tones of the jade. “He’ll use it to ensure peace between our states.”
“No,” said Ren, closing his fingers around the seal and pulling back his hand. “This is a family heirloom. I won’t betray my family by handing it over to just anyone.”
Anshi glared at him. “But you said—”
“I said I’d take you to it,” he said. “Not that I’d give it to you. At least, not yet.”
At that, her eyes narrowed into slits. “What do you mean, not yet?”
“I want you to come to the palace with me. You can return the seal to my father as a sign of good faith and work out an agreement with him on behalf of Wen.”
“Are you insane?” she snapped. “Priestess, you’d better talk some sense into this boy before I kill you both for lying.”
I stepped forward, thrown by this turn of events. “I didn’t—”
Just then, a fat droplet hit my cheek. We all looked up to see rain falling from the swollen clouds. Even with the canopy overhead, the shower sliced through the leaves and quickly soaked our group.
I turned to Ren, fearful the cold would kindle another fever.
“We must find shelter,” I said, my attention centralizing on that one basic need.
Anshi immediately protested, “It’s just a little rain. The matter at hand—”