Chapter Thirteen
SONG LIM stomped through the manor gardens, a box under each arm, and his bitten tongue throbbing.
All the curses he’d like to have thrown at the lady now spilled from beneath a muttered breath.
He was so busy fuming he took a wrong turn; ending up deeper in the gardens rather than closer to the entrance to the hutong that would lead him back to his workshop.
A rockery appeared where he’d expected the path to lie, and finally he realised he’d gotten himself turned about.
‘Stupid egg,’ he admonished himself, searching for a familiar sight to guide him.
Up ahead there was a crossroads in the pebbled pathway, with whitebark pines in their rows up ahead, and Lim realised, with a sinking heart, exactly where he was in the gardens.
Heng had spoken of the pines near the guardhouse tower when he’d asked about the pond where Xian had gotten his gown and shoes so muddy.
These were the only rows of pines planted on the manor grounds.
Which meant he was very near the pond. He had no desire to go to that empty place; with no prince, perhaps no fish, and only stark reminder that Xian was gone.
Before he could talk himself out of the idea, he set down the shoeboxes, tucking them under an azalea bush, and hurried on towards the row of white-bark pines that hugged the manor’s outer west wall. He reached a set of wide steps that led down into a sunken section of the garden.
Lim stood gazing down at the crudely built pond for a long while, hoping he’d spy a ripple stirring the plant-clogged waters; and discover that talk of the fish being caught and eaten, was nothing more than needless and nasty gossip.
An icy feeling held him as he waited. The dark water was visible only in small patches amongst the sweet flag and hornwort, and it lay still as black ice.
He edged closer, one step at a time, and almost cried out in relief when one of the lily pads shifted, only to be despondent in the next heartbeat as an unseasonable dragonfly rose from the green platform.
Lim leaned over the pond’s stony edge, the dank scent of stagnant water unpleasant. ‘Mercy? Are you there?’
Here he was, talking to the fish, the same behaviour that had half of Yunnan believing the Dancing Prince a lunatic. But there was nothing crazy about a lonely man finding some happiness in an odd friendship.
Those who had taken the fish from Xian were the ones flirting with insanity.
Lim kept searching; for a ripple, a bubble rising to the surface from the gloom, a flash of golden scales, perhaps, for he’d been told Mercy was a true beauty.
There was nothing. Even the dragonfly had abandoned the pond.
Fear prickled at the back of his throat. He’d not wanted to believe what Daiyu had said of the banquet. No one, not even the Lady Tian, could be so terrible.
‘Mercy, come on now.’ Lim dipped his hand into the water, wishing to disturb the sickening stillness.
‘She is gone.’
He spun around, his heels slow through drying mud.
Daiyu stood on the last step, tiredness leaving blue-black lines beneath reddened eyes.
‘That fish was a treasure of his.’ Lim could barely free the words. But if a man in the taverns had told him a week ago he’d be furious at the death of a carp, Lim would have called him the stupidest of eggs that ever existed.
Daiyu nodded. ‘Xian was allowed nothing to treasure in this place. Perhaps it is best they have sent him away.’
Turning back to the pond, Lim shook his head. ‘You would not say that, if you’d seen how the captain treated him. He is not an honourable man.’
Now Lim’s anger turned inward. He’d not even been there when Xian departed, to offer a reassuring wave, or a friendly smile. And, worse, he’d carried on about the slippers being made for the prince, but had not even bothered to give him a decent shoebox to carry them in.
‘Is he any less honourable than those in the Governor’s Manor? Men and women both,’ Daiyu said, unaware of Lim’s internal tirade.
A muscle in Lim’s jaw pained with the grinding of his teeth. ‘I am not talking of him being struck for not picking the perfect flower for Her Grace’s ugly vases.’
Daiyu glared, moving down the path towards him. ‘Shut your mouth, you imbecile. If you truly care for Xian’s welfare then do not seek to have yourself killed with a loose tongue. He has so few allies as it is, do not lower the count by one.’
‘Some ally I am. I was not even here to bid him farewell, when the the marchioness placed him in the hands of those vipers.’
Daiyu rushed at him. ‘Hush, you fool.’
She shoved him, striking him hard enough to cause him to stumble against the wall.
A loosened chunk of stone fell into the water with a notable splash, finally creating ripples on the onyx surface, shifting the lily pads and hornwort; parting them well enough for something to catch Lim’s eye in the murky depths.
He blinked. ‘Did you see that?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Daiyu was too busy lamenting her assault. ‘I shouldn’t have struck you.’
Ignoring her apology, Lim leaned over the stonework, using both hands to part the carpet of plantlife suffocating the surface.
‘There’s something down there.’ His gaze darted, an urgency gripping him.
There.
Unmistakable. A gleam he could have picked out from all the stars in the sky.
‘The slipper…the slipper is in the water.’ Lim was submerged to the elbows, holding the lilies by their stalks to keep them at bay. ‘I can see it.’
‘What slipper?’ Daiyu asked. ‘Why did you put one of your slippers in the fish pond?’
‘I didn’t.’ Lim pulled his arms out of the water and scooted his backside onto the stone ledge. He kicked off his own sandals, and swung his legs over, dipping them into the water, submerging them to the tops of his calves.
‘What are you doing?’ Daiyu cried.
‘Going for a swim.’
Lim wriggled about as he lifted his changsan above his knees and pulled the material tight around his thighs. With a thrust of his hips, he propelled himself into the water.
His breath caught as he descended into the freezing water.
The depth was far greater than he’d assumed; an assumption based on the nearness of the slipper’s glow.
He’d thought his feet would touch the bottom long before his head went beneath the surface, but he found himself with nostrils full and the braid of his queue pulled upwards like some wild rope hanging from the surface.
Lim sank down, and darkness crept in. A tinge of fear whispered at him as he imagined himself falling into a bottomless, watery grave.
The ugly whisper vanished the moment the shimmer of Xian’s slipper brightened the water.
Lim angled himself downwards, reaching for the shoe where it lay in a tangle of snaking weeds.
He snatched up the slipper, his lungs hassling him for air, and twisted himself upwards once more, kicking out.
He’d let go of his robe, and the pull of the fabric was like a coat made of stone.
Weeds played at his ankles. Fright pushed a stream of bubbles from Lim’s mouth.
He drew up his knee, moving in the slow motion style enforced by the water, and pushed his foot against the weeds snagging his other ankle.
For a moment he feared he’d only gotten himself more entwined.
He looked down, his lungs all but emptied, his head aching with the loss of his breath.
The glow from the slippers illuminated the weeds.
Guiding him as he untangled himself, then lighting the way as he strained towards the surface; using a swimmer’s stroke he’d learned from a fisherman in Shanghai.
The last morsel of air left his lungs, and his ears rang.
Go to him.
He burst free, sweet flag lacing his ear, something slimy clinging to his cheek. His hungry lungs had him inhaling wildly.
‘You are mad!’ Daiyu exclaimed. ‘What do you think you…oh, that is your shoe? Who would throw such a beautiful thing into a pond?’
‘No one…’ Lim panted. ‘He wouldn’t…’
The gleam from the shoe had lessened back to its usual, but still extraordinary, sparkling moonlight.
‘Who wouldn’t? Who does the shoe belong to?’
‘Xian’ He spat; grit and dank water. ‘I gave them to him.’
‘But…he’d never throw such a beautiful piece into the water.’ Daiyu sounded both confused and forlorn. ‘Or was he so bereft he senses left him? Oh, Master Song, I wish we’d never given him that tincture. He is not in the right mind to know when to stop.’
Lim leaned his hands on his thighs, waiting for the manic pulse of his heart to slow, and the water to seep from his ears.
His tilt drew him nearer to the slipper still clutched in his hand, and his gaze caught upon a peculiarity; a tinge of fiery gold upon the rounded toe.
He tilted the shoe, thinking the light played tricks, but it was an overcast day, no sun to shine its brilliant rays and cast such a colour.
Lim ran the pad of his thumb over the splotch of colour, and his lungs forgot how to breathe, all over again.
There, trimming the crystal contour of the toe, were fish scales; seven thin slivers of gold; a unique and delicate armour.
‘Go to him.’ He repeated the words he’d thought a delusion of an air-starved mind.
‘Master Lim? Are you alright? Your lips are blue and you are very pale.’
He ran his finger once more over the scales. They could have fallen from Mercy, and adhered themselves to the unusual fabric. Strange, but possible.
A man who did not believe in superstitions certainly could not believe in magickal carp.
‘I need to go.’
Of course, he needed to go. What an idiot he was, to be near-drowned to realise it. Lim cursed himself. He’d been pandering to the Lady Tian, whilst a grieving man suffered in the company of braggarts and pretentious fools.
He must go to Manhao.
The decision settled on him like a beloved coat, fitting precisely where it ought, making him wonder why he’d taken so damned long to wear it.
Lim strode away, water streaming from his drenched changsan which clung to his body, his braid heavy where it hung over his shoulder. He was stopped by a harried Daiyu.
‘Go where, Master Lim? I don’t understand what is going on.’
‘It is simple.’ He held up the slipper, dull now but no less beautiful. ‘This slipper belongs to Xian, and is pointless on its own. I will return to him what he has lost. That is what I must do.’
Fish scales aside, shoes were intended as pairs.
Daiyu glanced between him and the slipper several times before she finally nodded. ‘Do you have a horse?’
Lim scowled at his predicament. ‘No. I sold it when I arrived as I needed the coin for lodgings.’
‘Never mind, I can arrange a fast horse, and provisions. My father and I have many favours we can call in. The roads are muddy because of the storm. Don’t push your horse too hard where it is treacherous, or you will not make it to Manhao.’
Lim made a dismissive sound. ‘This is not my first time upon the roads, girl. I will make it to Manhao.’
‘Yes, of course. Sorry, I am anxious, that is all. His Highness will not have listened to our warnings about the tincture. It effected him greatly but he would not let my father adjust the dosage. I fear what state you will find him in.’
The cold water had already covered Lim with gooseflesh; now it prickled down his arms anew.
‘Then make sure the horse you find me is the fastest in the Middle Kingdom. Quickly now, Daiyu. I’ve already delayed too long.’