Naamah's Kiss (85 page)

He grinned at me. "Of course. I am Master Lo Feng's magpie. I can do whatever he requires."

"Right now, he finds it needful that his magpie be more discreet, Younger Brother," Master Lo said mildly.

Bao sighed, chastened. "Yes, Honored Brother."

Once we were under way, any fears vanished. For all his boastful streak, Bao never boasted in vain; he was skilled at the rudder. He swung the boat into the center of the river, letting the swift current take us. When Kang took to the oars, the little boat moved at an even livelier pace, much faster than we'd been travelling in the carriage, constrained by the foot-speed of our unlikely attendants. The scent of the river and the chilly breeze against my face made me smile, happier than I had been since our journey began.

The dragon was happy, too.

"He likes being on water," Snow Tiger commented.

Yes. I wish I could see , he added.

"So do I," she murmured, touching her thick veil. "So do I."

I glanced around. No one was watching, and the awning concealed us from the casual view of outsiders. "Why not?" I hadn't summoned the twilight since we'd left Shuntian. Given the effectiveness of our simple disguises, it hadn't been necessary. The princess had not asked it of me; nor had the dragon, eager to be helpful. It hadn't occurred to me that both must be longing for it in different ways. I took a deep breath and called the twilight, wrapping it around both of us. The sky dimmed, the river turned silvery, the green slopes leading down to it turned a soft heather-grey.

Ten Tigers Dai let out a sudden shout of alarm. "Where"

"Here," I murmured, letting him hear me. "It's all right, be quiet. The lady and the dragon wish to see, and I am helping them."

He stared through me, pale with fear. "Ah all right."

The princess removed her hat and veil, her dragon-reflecting eyes meeting mine. "It is all right, Dai. I promise. Tell the others."

He eased. "As you say, my lady."

The river? Please?

"Yes." Beneath the awning, Snow Tiger leaned over the edge of the narrow boat, gazing at the moving waters. The dragon sighed with pleasure. She beckoned to me. Kneeling beside her, I watched the reflection of dragon's pearlescent coils undulate with the flowing current alongside our boat, eeling through the reeds.

His happiness was like a song, a caroling chorus of gratitude running through it. Thank you, thank you, thank you !

"Of course," I said softly. "I am sorry I did not offer before. You have only to ask, treasured friend."

The princess dipped her fingertips into the water, letting them trail just below the surface. The dragon's reflection rippled and wavered. I sensed his delighted reaction, like an immensely vast and impossibly glorious dog having his belly rubbed.

"Despite everything, I will miss him," she said in a low voice. "Now that I know what he is. Now that I know him. Does that shock you?"

I shook my head. "I will miss him, too."

"It is not the same."

"No, of course not." All too well, I remembered that quicksilver energy surging through my veins in the Celestial City when the dragon had poured a measure of his essence into me through her kiss. Like a storm in my blood, wild and joyous. "No, it is not, my lady. And yet I will miss him nonetheless."

"And he, you." She withdrew her hand from the water, letting it rest briefly on my shoulder. "Betimes I wonder, Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn. Bear-worshipping witch, child of desire. The unlikely confluence of deities that begot you flung you into the world to work their will without guidance. Tell me, where does it end? With this greater purpose you perceive? Are you a minor character in my tale, or am I a lesser figure in yours?"

"I don't know, my lady," I murmured. "I suppose it depends on who is telling the tale."

The princess contemplated me. The dragon's doubly reflected image swam in her black pupils, coiling and uncoiling endlessly. "I suppose it does."

Since it made the stick-fighters nervous, I didn't hold the twilight long, only long enough to soothe the dragon. The men whispered and murmured at our reappearance. Bao smirked at them. I wondered what further lies he'd told them about me. I wondered, too, whether he'd done it to protect me, or simply to aggrandize his own reputation.

Both, likely.

Although it should have bothered me, it didn't. Now that I knew him, Bao's cheerful arrogance, so at odds with the humility he tried to cultivate, couldn't disguise the fact that he was loyal and fearless, not to mention a hopeless romantic at heart.

What the future held for us, the gods alone knew.

I watched the river unfurl like a ribbon before our boat, green and unending, and thought about what the princess had said. It was not entirely true that the unlikely confluence of deities who begot me had given me no guidance. My diadh-anam flickered steadily within me, a divine compass telling me that I was where I was meant to be, no matter how very, very far from home.

Of course, I'd been sure it was telling me I was meant to be with Raphael, too.

It had seemed so right. The unlikely collision of our meeting, his unhesitating acceptance of me, the way our gifts intertwined. Stone and sea, I'd been so sure! And I'd been so, so very wrong. The destiny that the Maghuin Dhonn Herself laid on me, Naamah's gift, Anael's gift, Master Lo's teaching

I didn't understand what it all meant.

Patience . The dragon's voice rumbled through my thoughts, tinged with a profound fondness and amusement only an immortal creature could muster. You are very young. Live. Learn. Love .

Startled out of my reverie, I smiled. "I am trying."

He poured an immense surge of affection into me. You are doing well. Remember, the journey is more important than the destination .

"Old Nemed said the same thing," I said aloud.

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

"What do you mean?" My voice rose. "What do you know ?." The dragon fell silent, his thoughts turning misty and vague as they did when he dreamed and drifted. With the exception of the veiled princess, everyone on the boat stared at me. I cleared my throat. "Ah forgive me. It is only that the dragon said something unexpected, and now he will not tell me what it means."

"It may be that he cannot," Master Lo said philosophically. "He is a celestial being, Moirin. Like sages, they speak in riddles."

"Why?" I demanded. "It's very irritating!"

His eyes twinkled. "Sages do so to instruct, to prod the lazy mind into thought. I suspect dragons have their own rules."

Yes . The dragon surfaced to agree. Such as forgiving the follies that budding sages committed in their youth .

That, I declined to translate.

"Speaking of lazy minds" Master Lo glanced around the boat. "Many sages claim the journey and the destination are one and the same. Perhaps, with the Lady Chan's gracious permission, we might use this time to examine Sakyamuni's teachings and the search for enlightenment undertaken by those on the Path of Dharma, and how it compares to the path of those following the Way?" He stroked his shorn chin. "It seems fitting."

Snow Tiger inclined her head. "Of course, Venerable One."

I learned a great deal during our time on the river. Most of all, I learned that I was unsuited for following the Path of Dharma.

"These are the Four Noble Truths taught by Sakyamuni, the Enlightened One," Master Lo said in his tranquil voice. "To live is to suffer. The origin of suffering is desire. It is possible to cease suffering. To do so one must walk the Path of Dharma, shedding all mortal attachments."

I squirmed.

He bent his gaze on me. "You disagree, Moirin?"

"It is not what you taught me, Master," I said, temporizing. "You said all ways lead to the Way."

"So I did." He folded his hands in his lap. "And this is one way among many. I do not claim to be what I pretend in guise, and yet I have some knowledge of the matter. Are you so wise that you will reject it at a glance? Or will you listen and hear?"

I sighed. "I will listen, of course."

I liked the tale of the Bhodistani prince whose father had kept him so sheltered that for many long years, he did not know that such things as sickness, age, and death existed. At the same time, I thought he took the revelation overly hard. Surely, I thought, not all of life was suffering.

"You find it hard to grasp because you are a foreigner," the princess observed.

I eyed her, uncertain whether or not she was teasing me. "Mayhap it is because I love the world and many people and things in it, my lady."

Master Lo raised one finger. "Ah, but what if the followers of the Enlightened One are right, and the world is but an illusion? Then your love is equally illusory, and the attachments you form to illusions prevent you from perceiving the truth."

Betimes he made my head ache.

But I liked listening to him, and it was a relief to be spared the sole burden of entertaining the princess. The young men talked endlessly while they took turns at the oars, mulling over the ideas Master Lo fed them. Not Bao, who had long been his pupil, but the others. I could almost hear their brains stretching. No one had ever spoken to them as though they were worth teaching before.

I thought, tooalthough some of my thoughts I kept to myself. I thought a great deal about desire, being constrained not to express any for the first time in my young life. I found it surprisingly difficult. It wasn't a question of celibacy; even if our guises and the dragon's jealousy hadn't made that necessary, our quarters on the boat rendered it a moot point. It frustrated me to have my fledgling relationship with Bao forced into an impasse where neither of us could speak openly of our feelings, but I could accept it for the duration of our quest. What bothered me most was being denied almost the whole spectrum of physical affection.

That, I hated.

I yearned for it, yearned to touch and be touched with an ache that was no less real than thirst or hunger.

I thought about Naamah, the bright lady.

Jehanne had told me that each House of the Night Court held that Naamah had given herself as she did for different reasons. Now, with naught to do but listen and think and watch the river flow, I thought mayhap it was simply in her nature. She was desire. She could no more keep from giving herself over to it, whether it was the carnal desire to take a lover or the innocent desire to caress a child's soft cheek, than the sun could stop from shining or the rain from falling.