Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
History
“What did you want to show me?” I ask, letting my arms fall as I turn back to the temple.
If I had thought Tǎnkaski housed the most amazing structures I had ever seen, then this temple was downright other worldly.
Every log is carved in painstaking detail, each plank painted with a ranging tapestry of scenes from fog-shrouded mountains, to gusting winds and tumultuous seas, and all throughout there are silhouettes of dragons tangling with the elements.
I wander closer. There are too many details to take them all in at once.
I could come here every day for a phase and still not have the entire structure mapped in my mind.
I tilt my head back to try to capture the entirety of the temple—three, four, five levels?
At least, it’s hard to tell from this vantage.
I can feel it the moment Rui steps closer; the shadows that lick at the sides of the building and swirl around my boots appear to lash out at him. I can sense their anger tickling at the corners of my mind. I shake my head and turn to face him.
“It’s incredible.”
Rui tilts his head to the side and smiles. “I’m glad you like it. Do you want to go inside?”
“Can we?”
“Of course, that’s why I brought you here.” His knuckles brush against mine, as if he is testing if I’ll let him take my hand again. The thick malevolence that hangs in the air when he is near prompts me to shove my hands into my pockets instead.
If Rui is disappointed, he hides it well, leading us up the stone carved steps to a wide double door on metal rails.
My heartbeat thunders as I take in the door.
It’s carved wood pressed with iron details, and it looks so much like the door from my dreams that I wince when Rui pushes against it.
But it’s not the door from my dreams. It opens with ease and Rui gestures for me to enter before he slides it closed behind us.
The room we enter is not what I was expecting.
The ceiling is high, lit at the center with a collection of glowing panels sculpted into moons and stars, hung from wires, rotating slowly and casting a brilliant light across the archives.
Shelves stuffed full with books line the perimeter.
There is a wide open space at the center before rows and rows of wooden shelves stretch into the distance.
In the open atrium, scholars gather around low tables strewn with scrolls.
They speak in hushed voices, but they appear excited and animated as they debate their theories with each other.
It’s beautiful, and a strange sadness settles in my chest. Nowhere in all of Bǎodela is there a space like this.
There are no rooms dedicated to knowledge, there are no scholars engaging in lively debates, and I wonder if this is why Cressida wants to find an exchange program that will take her away from the stone prison that is our home.
Her mother was an ambassador from the Southern Collective.
I’m sure a life in Bǎodela, where outsiders are rare and distrust runs high, has been hard on her.
“Kā?uwe, we weren’t expecting you.” A tiny woman with silver hair and a slight frame bows in front of us. She is so slight her violet robes threaten to drown her, and I wonder how she carries the heavy tomes I see laid out over the tables.
“Be careful with those! They are nearly two hundred rotations old,” she calls out to a young scholar balancing a stack of books that reach far above his head.
“Yes, Grand Master Li,” the boy mumbles before carefully transferring the stack to a nearby table.
Grand Master Li chuckles. “I swear they are getting younger every year.”
“Are you sure you’re not just getting older?” Rui smiles fondly at the woman.
“Now watch your tongue Rui, I’m not too old to remind my grandson of the importance of respecting his elders.”
Rui bows deeply to placate the old woman. “Of course, Zǔmǔ.” When he rises, smiles line both their faces.
“Now, are you going to remember your manners and introduce me to the beautiful young woman you have brought with you today?”
I’m certain the heat that creeps across my face is a matching red to Rui’s flushed cheeks.
“Zǔmǔ,” Rui mumbles.
“I am too old to waste time. My eyes haven’t failed me yet. I can see her just as well as you.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Rui turns an even brighter shade of red.
Even embarrassed and flushed, his features are strong and his eyes shine with an inner glow.
He’s as beautiful as a sunset, and I realize I’m staring and quickly swivel my head to inspect the endless shelves of ancient books that surround us.
“This is Oliviana, tinkerer, from…” He turns to me with a half grin. “Well, she hasn’t told me yet.”
“Master Tinkerer,” I correct.
“A Master?” Grand Master Li looks at me with new eyes. Inspecting me as if she is weighing the truth of my words, and strangely, I can’t help but hope that she finds me worthy. “So young?”
I bite my lip, considering my admission. It was strange to achieve the level of Master at my age, the result of my father training me young, and the natural talent that I inherited from him. My fingers tingle and the sky stones at my neck heat at the half-truth I tell myself.
“Yes, I inherited the trade from my father.” I decide that this truth will serve me best with Grand Master Li. I have a feeling that she has the ability to see right through me and I have no desire to find out if I’m right.
“Hmmm, a beautiful, talented mystery woman falls down the crag.” Grand Master Li chuckles to herself, though I get the feeling it’s a private joke. “Well, Rui, you better not let her get away. Women of legend do not come into our lives every day.”
“Of legend?” I quirk my eyebrows, trying to decipher her meaning.
“Oh yes, my dear. My favorite legend from when I was a little girl starts with a woman falling from the cosmos above into a crack in the earth. This, I think, must be fate.” She clutches my hands in her soft, withered ones and pats gently.
A flash of white blots all color from her eyes, but when I blink, it’s gone.
When she speaks again, there is a strange ethereal quality to her tenor.
“The future is not written, only the past, but yours is a story that will go down as legend. Mark my words.” She releases my hands and turns, opening her arms wide to encompass the room.
“Your story will rest in my books one day.”
“Zǔmǔ.” Rui’s voice is low. I can hear the subtle pleading in it.
Grand Master Li turns back to us with a warm smile. “Thank you for favoring an old woman. But I know you didn’t come here to talk to me. Not today with such lovely company.” She winks at me, and I have to fight back a laugh.
“I wanted to show her the top tier.” Rui shifts his boots. The movement is subtle.
“Ah, well then, don’t let me keep you any longer. But do make sure you come and say goodbye before you leave, mystery woman.”
This time I let the laughter loose. “Of course, Grand Master Li. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
Rui leads the way to a wide spiral staircase, but before we reach the first step, DaLei steps out from the shadowed overhang, blocking our way.
He has that same nasty glower on his face that he offers me each day as he glares at our table from the other side of the commons.
Rui has long since given up asking his cousin to join us, and I do my best to ignore the way he glares at me like a bat that has wandered into his dwelling and won’t leave.
“Cousin?” Rui asks, his tone weary, as if there have been many fights between the two of them over the newcomers that my ears haven’t been privy to.
DaLei rests his hand on the pommel of his sword, onyx eyes seething. “She shouldn’t be here.”
Rui sighs. “The temple is open to all. You know this.”
“She is not Tǎnkaski. She has no rights here.”
Rui tenses, the defeated demeanor melting away, replaced by the ridged edges of the Kā?uwe.
“Yes, you have made your opinion known. Much too loudly for my liking, cousin. Now, unless you want to challenge me for Kā?uwe, I suggest you move out of my way.” Rui’s hand has found its way to the hilt of his own sword.
The tension between the two men chafes, neither willing to back down.
“DaLei!” Grand Master Li calls. “I didn’t call you here to fight with your cousin like you’re nothing more than feral cave kittens. Get over and help your Zǔmǔ.”
DaLei’s lips pull back in a snarl, and for a moment, I’m certain that they are indeed going to tussle like angry cats, but then DaLei shoulders past Rui and storms away, bowing low before his grandmother before she ushers them behind a stack of shelves.
“I’m sorry about him,” Rui says softly, accenting his words with the brush of his fingertips over mine.
I shrug. “He’s not wrong. I’m not from Tǎnkaski.”
“It’s not where we are from that makes a home,” Rui whispers, guiding me onto the first step.
His words settle heavily over me. As if he could read the treacherous thoughts that have built in my mind over the days spent exploring the city with him.
The way I longed to find a home, a place where I belonged, somewhere where I’m simply Liv and not the daughter of a traitor.
No more words are exchanged as we ascend the staircase.
I can’t help but wonder at the craftsmanship.
The iron railing twists into spiraling designs that mimic waves and surf.
Each step is made of deep-stained wood, well cared for and polished with time and wear.
As we climb higher, the steps fade from the deep stain of fertile soil to parched dirt, all the way to the pale color of sand.
The metalwork shifts too; the designs now mimic clouds and wind as we reach the top of the staircase.