Naamah's Kiss (100 page)

"Moirin, no!" a voice behind me said. I ignored it.

Bao's eyelids fluttered. It seemed he couldn't move his limbs. His unfocused gaze met mine, and he tried to smile. "Should have told you"

Nothing.

The words died on his lips.

My diadh-anam faltered in my breast, the spark of it guttering low in despair. Ah, gods! Like a fool, I had always assumed it was Master Lo for whom it had flaredmy teacher, my mentor. They had always been together. Even after I had come to desire and care for Bao in all his insolent pride, to love him, I had never realized it had been him all along.

I was an idiot.

"No." I shook my head in denial. I shook Bao where he lay, shook his limp, lifeless shoulders. "No, no, no, no! You stupid boy, you can't be dead!"

His head lolled, lids half-parted.

Dead.

Master Lo Feng sank to his knees beside me. He felt at the pulses in Bao's wrists and throat. Felt, and felt again, seeking any sign of life, and finding none. His grave eyes told me the news I did not want to hear.

"An antidote," I pleaded. "There must be one!"

"No." The word fell like a stone.

I bowed my head. I was vaguely aware of Master Lo rising and walking away from me, his hands folded in his sleeves. Vaguely aware of hands pulling at me. Vaguely aware of other hands batting them away, the princess' voice, high and fierce.

"Let her be!"

I was grateful for it. I laid my head on Bao's still chest, pressing my cheek against his cooling flesh and closing my eyes.

"Moirin." It was Master Lo's voice, deep and commanding. He had returned. I opened my eyes, unsure how much time had passed. "Oh, child!" He sighed. "Today I have seen the son of my heart slain by the son of my blood. Today I realize I have lived too long. If you are willing, there may be a way. Will you share your magic? I have never asked this of you, but today I do. Are you willing to give a part of yourself that my magpie might live?"

"Anything!" I gasped.

He knelt beside Bao's body, his head bowed in silent prayer as he cycled through the Five Styles of Breathing, then rubbed his palms together, conjuring energy. "Then let us attempt this."

I knelt opposite him.

There was power in that place. There was the sacred energy of White Jade Mountain, its pristine reflecting pool and untouched snow, the mountain's peak thrusting toward Heaven, its vibrant mantle of spruce, all present here in the dragon himself.

And there was dark power, toothe blood of thousands of men and horses spilled in unnecessary sacrifice, soaking into the earth.

I breathed it in, all of it. I fed it to the guttering spark of my diadh-anam . Master Lo waited patiently, his dark eyes somber. When I was ready, I nodded.

"Whatever happens, know that I spoke the truth," Master Lo murmured. "I am proud of you, my last and unlikeliest pupil."

"Thank you, Master," I whispered.

He laid his hands on Bao's chest. "Now." I put my hands atop his and called the magic, making a gateway of myself.

It came in a rush more powerful than ever before, spilling through mebright and dark, twined together in a braided torrent, taking a part of me with it. I breathed it out, breathed it into Master Lo Feng. On and on, the rushing torrent poured. Master Lo's hands grew warmer beneath mine, warmer and warmer, almost too hot to touch, but I didn't pull away. I let the magic flow through me, draining me, until spots of glittering darkness danced before my eyes and I began to fade.

The stone doorway beckoned.

And there was a part of my fading self that yearned for it, yearned to pass through it. The dragon's cry echoed in my mind. Home . On the far side of death, home and the Maghuin Dhonn Herself awaited me.

Ah, gods! It was a peaceful thought. I was tired, so tired. Tired of blood, death, fighting, jealousy, ambition, and cruelty, tired of being a stranger far from home. And after all, I hadn't failed. I had found my destiny and fulfilled it.

No , the dragon said in my thoughts. It is not finished .

Master Lo Feng took a deep breath, a breath so deep it seemed he breathed all the Five Styles at once, his entire body expanding with it. Through failing eyes, I saw him smile his wise, gentle smile one last time.

He released his breath.

My diadh-anam flared to lifeflared and doubled. I felt it blaze like a beacon inside my chest

and inside Bao.

Bao loosed a shout, his body jerking to life. He scrambled wildly to his feet, clutching his chest and staring at me. "What have you done? What have you done ?"

"I don't know!" I cried. My vision had cleared, but I was too weak to move. "Master Lo"

"Master Lo!" Bao crouched beside him. "Ah! No!"

Master Lo Feng's eyes were closed. The hint of a peaceful smile yet curved his lips. But there was no breath in his lungs, no life in his body.

He was gone.

"Take it back!" Bao's eyes were wild and staring-wide, white around the irises. "Moirin, undo it! Take it back!"

"I can't!" I said in agony. " He did it! I didn't know, Bao! I didn't know!"

Baring his teeth in fury, he lunged at me, shaking my shoulders. " Take it back !"

"I can't!"

The dragon roared a deafening warning. Hands pulled Bao away, more hands helped me to my feet, helped me to stand. I wavered, Dai's hand beneath my elbow keeping me upright. Bao glared at me, breathing hard, his chest heaving. He had the two halves of his staff clutched in his hands once more, and he looked ready to fight. Either my vision was not wholly clear or a faint, dark shimmer hung around him. The princess positioned herself between us, keeping a wary eye on Bao.

Emperor Zhu cleared his throat. "Stand down, young hero," he said quietly. He was the ruler of the Celestial Empire of Ch'in, and the Son of Heaven. Bao lowered his gaze a fraction. Everyone else stood gazing in fascination at the unfolding drama. The Emperor stroked his chin, choosing his words with care. "I have known your master since before you were born, and he was old when I was a child. Today I heard Lo Feng Tzu say that he had lived too long, to see the son of his heart slain by the son of his blood."

Bao glanced at him, his brow furrowed in pain.

"He never told you, did he?" The Emperor smiled sadly. "Perhaps sometimes even the wisest among us become too caught up in duty and honor to say the words that matter most. Your master chose his end. I, too, am a doting father. I knew what Lo Feng Tzu intended when he spoke those words. No one else did. Do not blame them. I chose to respect your master's sacrifice. I suggest you do the same."

"It's not" Bao's voice broke. "It's not that easy, Celestial Majesty. You see, I was dead, and"

"And now you are not."

"No." Bao touched his chest, where half of my diadh-anam burned bright as a flame inside him, calling to me. His eyes met mine. "Now I am not."

He bowed three times to the Emperor, bowed three times to his daughter. He bowed to me, low and lingering, and there was a farewell in it.

My heart constricted. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

It was the glimpse of the stone doorway that made me remember. I awoke from a deep sleep, gasping. The memory was clear, so clear, even if the jumble of remembered voices that accompanied it wasn't.

You would do well to remember the wise-woman when the time comes.

Mayhap the gift will pass to her one day. After all, it has to pass to someone.

Old Nemed, chewing her lips.

I had a scar on my right hand, a tiny scar on the web of skin between my thumb and forefinger. I didn't remember how I'd gotten it. That was important.

Memories.

After I had passed through the stone doorway, I had begun to see vivid glimpses of others' memories. Raphael's memory of his parents' death. The blood-drenched horror of Snow Tiger's wedding night. Bao's memory of the naked, shivering boy who had grown up to become Ten Tigers Dai. Master Lo's poignant memory of a happy toddler playing with the dragon's pearl.

Those memories had not been offered freely, and I had done nothing more than bear witness to them. But if they had been offered for the taking

A profound, wordless sense of understanding blossomed within me. I thought mayhap I knew how Old Nemed wielded her gift.

Across the room, the princess stirred in her berth. "Moirin?" Her voice was drowsy. "What is it?"

I shook myself more fully alert, remembering where I was, and why. We were in a very pleasant home vacated for Imperial usage by the governor of the village nearest the battlefield. It was three days since Bao's death and rebirth, and he had not yet returned. I knew where he wasor at least the direction he'd gone. I could point it out unerringly, anchored by the lodestone of my diadh-anam .

He had not gone far.

But that was not important to anyone in the Celestial Empire of Ch'in but me. What was important was that on the morrow, every soldier in Lord Jiang Quan's army with any knowledge of the workings of the Divine Thunder was sentenced to be executed.

Unless

I rose from my bed, pacing restlessly. "There may be a way, my lady. A better way, a way the people would embrace. If I can do it." I shivered. "I am not sure. I am not sure I have the gift, or the strength and courage to wield it."

Snow Tiger sat upright. "Tell me."

I slipped a silk outer robe over my sleeping clothes. "I need to walk. I need to think, and I can't think indoors."

She rose without comment to accompany me, shaking her head in silent refusal at a sleepy maidservant who came in to see if we needed aught.

Outside, it was quiet and still. I breathed in the night air and the scent of trees, trying to focus my thoughts as we strolled along the garden path that bordered the decorative lake. There was a full moon high overhead, bright enough that both the moon and the distant peak of White Jade Mountain were reflected in the still water. We crossed a bridge that led to a tiny little pavilion in the center of the lake, built just for the purpose of contemplating the moon and the mountain's reflection.

I told Snow Tiger about Old Nemed and what she had done, and what the dragon had said to me.

She was silent for a long moment. "That seems a dangerous gift."