Winged: A Novella (Of Two Girls) (18 page)

“Hey, don’t touch the bandage,” Javin’s voice was
beside her and she gazed up at his brown eyes. “Let the burns heal
naturally. Here, let me check the bandages…”

She closed her eyes. Her mother must be frantic by
now. And probably a search had been launched.

“The burns are not infected at the moment, which is
a good sign,” Javin said and placed something cool in her hand. It
was a glass of water with a straw. It was after a few sips that she
realized she had a very parched throat and was immediately grateful
for the water.

“You need to rest a couple of days,” the young man
continued, putting the glass away on the bedside table. “Don’t want
to let your family worry that much about you.”

“
My family…” She choked on the
rest of the words. The tiny rational voice in her reprimanded her
for her impulsiveness. She should have stayed in her chambers,
listened to her parents and apprenticed herself on her aunt’s
ship.
The price of her rebellion
.
Her actions were culpable. And perhaps, the Ermei abbess and her
mother had been correct after all. She let her impulsiveness get
the better of her again. The last time she did that, she was tied
up and suspended in a pool of ice water.

The price of her rebellion.

“
You need to go back to your
family, Earnestine,” Javin said quietly, gently. “You can’t run
away from them forever. Could you have
talked
to them and voiced your own wishes? What do you
want to do?”

The questions startled her, shook
her truly
awake
. She did not know
what she wanted. She was a phoenix without a purpose.

It was a chill and sobering
thought, far worse than the burns on her cheek. She did not know
what she wanted. No, an apprentice-ship on a starship did not
appeal to her. Nor the art of diplomacy, which, she knew, must be
learned, as she would have to ascend to the Phoenix Throne one
day.
Merchant
. She liked the idea
of traveling and selling wares, something she ruefully acknowledged
was not really orthodox. She had aunts and cousins who could do
that. They were natural traders, quick on their mental feet.
Yet…

She could be a merchant and she should work towards
that goal. The fires of her impulsive nature must be curbed. With
the ice of cold consideration and deliberation. She wanted to learn
how to trade, how to procure items.

“Merchant…” She whispered and Javin looked at her
strangely and with a fair bit of concern. Was she experiencing pain
from the burns? He reached for the burns lotion and the cotton
wool.

“Ah, you are awake.” Aunt Betta appeared at the
doorway, bearing a tray of soup and water. “We have to talk,
strange girl. You and I. Javin, you too.”

***

“So the little phoenix has flown the coop,” the
elderly woman with snow-white hair in a carefully maintained bun
said brusquely.

Ze Tian inhaled sharply, stung by
the dry tone of her Fourth Aunt. She had spent the whole day in a
slow swirling panic. Min Feng was still around. She could
feel
her. She had not gone far. Duke Zhang
had sent his men to thoroughly search the City. He too confided in
her that he had an intuition that Min Feng was nearby.

“Trust me,” she responded in a like tone. “I can
still find her. I can feel her nei huo. It beats strong, Fourth
Aunt.”

The image of Fourth Aunt, Admiral
Medea, bore an amused smile, which did not help Ze Tian’s current
mood. Her ship, the
Talons Rampant
,
was now on-route to the Imperial planet.

“What are you going to do to her once she’s been
found, niece?” Medea eyeballed her and the Empress felt like a
little girl once more, receiving instructions from her aunts. She
hated that. It made her feel… juvenile. And she was a grown woman
and the ruler of the Alliance Planets for Heavens’ sake. “Bind her
feet? Lock her in her room? Send her to another remote
nunnery?”

“
Fourth Aunt
…” Ze Tian did
not like and need the merciless needling now. Out of all her aunts,
Medea had the bluntest personality and she ran a fairly tight
ship.

“Did you ask her what she wanted?” The admiral
continued relentlessly. “Or did you just follow what your mother
had done, when you were a youth?”

Ze Tian stared. Medea and her sister – the Dowager –
did have some differences in opinions and had sometimes come to
verbal fisticuffs. Medea was very much a person who believed in
individual choice and the Dowager fought that bitterly.

“
You didn’t, didn’t you?
”
Medea’s dry tone was back, stronger than ever. The admiral rubbed
her temples, a sign of emotion. “Heavens’ bells, you should have
known better. Feng is no longer a child, to be coddled or to be put
away if she misbehaves. Have you ever talked to her about her own
needs? She is almost a grown woman.”

“
Fourth Aunt, if you stop
lecturing
…” Ze Tian knew her voice was
raised. Her phoenix fire flickered, once, twice.

Medea burst out laughing, a low contralto. “No, no,
not lecturing, my dear Empress-niece. Just the plain and simple
truth. As I have told your mother a thousand times…” She turned, as
if she was going through important document files. “Medea. Out.”
And the screen was soon replaced by the emblem of the Phoenix
Court, a phoenix in flight.

Ze Tian leaned back against her chair, exasperated
and aware that her Fourth Aunt was right.

Oh, Min Feng. Where are you? What are you doing?

A single tear curved down her face.

Hope was a precious thing.

The Phoenix Who Was A Chicken

There is a story, a childhood story told to
generations of children. It is about the Phoenix who was a chicken.
The story talks about this barnyard cockerel who is a kind soul. He
is helpful, kind-hearted and lends a wing to anyone who needs help,
animal or human. But he wonders about his Life Purpose. One day, he
finds himself staring at the sky and lo! there is a beautiful
creature, a beautiful bird with opalescent flowing wings and
feathers, gliding through the blue sky gracefully. The beauty of
this bird calls out to the cockerel who feels a sense of affinity
with it. But the chicken dismisses it as fanciful
imagination...
Then, one day, the cockerel has to help someone put out a huge
fire. He runs into the burning house, looking for people trapped
within the burning furnace... and he finds himself trapped by
flaming beams. Closer and closer the fiery tongues draw near. The
chicken feels himself burning up and he closes his eyes, praying
for death...
... and he finds himself changing, his ordinary feathers turning a
burnished gold... He is surprised...
A beautiful bird emerges from the fire, his wings brilliant
opalescence. The chicken has been transformed.
Extremely surprised, the ex-chicken looks at his magnificent new
body. Just then, the beautiful bird, one of the celestial
phoenixes, the one he had seen earlier, appears. It is a 'she' and
she greets him warmly. Together, they fly towards the sunrise.

--- The Book of Phoenii, “The Phoenix Who Was A
Chicken”.

Min Feng swallowed nervously as
she began her journey back to her family, the Navajo young man
Javen Windwalker beside her, a solid presence. Behind them strolled
Aunt Betta, forming the rear of this trio of individuals. In front
of them loomed the daunting obsidian gates of the Phoenix Court.
For a moment, Min Feng, heir of the Phoenix Throne, paused.
I never knew that the gates looked so intimidating…

It had been almost a week when she
finally worked up her courage and decided, once and for all, to
return to the Phoenix Court. Aunt Betta had sat down with her
and
talked
for a long time. The
astute middle-aged woman had seen through her disguise, her
masquerade; she simply posed a few questions to the amazed princess
who was Earnestine Thorne no longer. Javen had remained in his
seat, shocked and a little betrayed. She could not blame
him.

“I just want honest answers, Your Highness,” Aunt
Betta has said. No airs, no mincing around with words. Plain
speech, though gently delivered. “Do you want to go back to the
Phoenix Court? What do you plan to do after this adventure?”

Javen could be heard clearing his throat, wanting to
interject but was silenced by his aunt who regarded the princess
with calm eyes. Min Feng, her face smarting with the burns,
absorbed the questions and mulled them over. When she finally
reached her own inner conclusions, she replied with a subdued
voice: “I want to go back to the Phoenix Court. And – she glanced
at Javen and then at Aunt Betta – I plan to bring the two of you
along with me.”

Aunt Betta’s only word was “Ah” before she nodded
and leaned back against her seat, her eyes twinkling.

“I would also want to learn a more of your trade,”
Min Feng had continued carefully. “Give me two days, at your stall,
before I return to the Phoenix Court.”

“Deal,” Aunt Betta replied and Javen gaped, looking
at the two women, one young and one older (and hopefully, wiser).
Aunt Betta later left the room, satisfied. There was an awkward
silence in the room, punctuated only by breathing. Min Feng peered
at Javen through her bandage, not knowing what to say, except a
“Sorry.”

“You should have told me the truth,” Javen’s voice
bore a tinge of anger.

“
I am a princess of the Phoenix
Court, Javen. I cannot go around as a normal person.” The words
came out, more bitter than she had intended. “What is normal for
you, to be able to walk around freely, is not for me. In some ways,
I
envy
you. The only way I can walk
around as a “common” is to wear a mask and adopt a false
name.”

She closed her eyes, exhaustion settling in.
Already, she could feel her burns healing. That was one secret
legacy of the phoenix flame.

She did not hear Javen leaving the room.

***

For two days, she roused herself from the bed and
started learning the art of trading from Aunt Betta. Javen did not
speak to her for a few hours as she worked the till and made fry
bread dough. A couple of times, she saw the imposing black uniforms
of her father’s soldiers mingling with the crowds, sticking out
like sore thumbs. They were looking for her. Her face, bandaged and
disfigured, remained masked to the public eye. Aunt Betta simply
introduced her to a few curious customers as her niece who “was
mute” and “was eager to help her aunt.”

There was definitely the art of diplomacy at play,
watching people’s reactions and judging their characters.
Sometimes, other merchants would approach Aunt Betta to trade for
extra flour and oil in exchange for other essentials. It was not
merely the business of selling fry bread and corn meal. Min Feng
saw other aspects of the Left Quadrant at play: the ways of
merchants and the devious art of trading. It seemed that Aunt Betta
was an important and respected figure in the Left Quadrant. She was
a crafty negotiator, as sharp as her own aunts and relatives who
held key economic positions in various Alliance planets. Aunt Betta
was at once warm and incisive, without compromising on her friendly
personality. In one day alone, she could arrange for new shipments
of flour and oil – and from the best suppliers – and settle a few
deals with the local merchants (for medicine and clothing). She
observed the Navajo woman as a mute girl, her last disguise –
hopefully – for years to come.

As she made the fry bread and
monitored the oil, she discovered that her phoenix flame, her nei
huo, was also responding to the subtle changes around her. It was
sensitive to the undercurrents of emotions and moods. With honest
people, it would not react, just a steady quiet burn. With people
with shifty eyes and artificial smiles, it would
change
in color – from white to a
pulsating red.

By the end of day two, Javen finally spoke to her
and she was glad. He held her hand and sat with her while the day’s
customers dwindled and they had a bit of breathing space.

***

The three travelers stood before
the black gates.
This is it
, Min
Feng thought to herself. She walked forward to the two guards
manning the gates. She recognized them from her father’s guards
unit. With Javen and Aunt Betta trailing behind her, she stated who
she was.

One of the pair glared at her. Bandaged face, almost
ugly. Her clothes were dusty after the walk from the Left
Quadrant.

“Let me through,” her voice carried a sense of
command, prompting Javen to lift his eyebrow, seeing another side
of Min Feng. “I am the Princess Min Feng, heir apparent and first
in line to the Phoenix Throne.”