Winged: A Novella (Of Two Girls) (20 page)

She had to hide her smile behind her hand. This
would get truly interesting. Not sure about the potential for
heartbreak and other love-related teenage malaises. Her daughter,
she knew, was truly growing up. Parental love and attachment did
not want to let go. Yet, judging by the body language of Min Feng
and the young man, it was clear to Ze Tian that she had to. One
day.

Min Feng bowed deeply, flanked by her twin
sister-maids. The two merchants did the same as well.

“Sit,” Ze Tian motioned the hovering maids and
servants away. They padded out in a whisper of silk. Min Feng sank
into a rosewood chair carved by master artisans. For a brief
moment, Javen and Aunt Betta appeared unsure, before settling into
similar chairs, looking ill at ease.

“I would like to thank both of you for looking after
Min Feng,” Ze Tian proceeded, breaking the awkward silence and
directing her voice at Javen and Aunt Betta.

“It has been a pleasure,” Aunt Betta answered
gracefully, before Javen could even open his mouth.

Ze Tian had a small smile on her face. Min Feng
stirred and sat up, her figure unconsciously regal.

“Mother,” the princess said, her voice as clear as
Ze Tian and carried an edge. “I would like to speak my mind.”

There was a tiny susurrus of tension, like a subtle
heat wave. Javen and Aunt Betta became more still.

“Mother, I would like to become a merchant, for my
apprentice-ship,” Min Feng said slowly, carefully. Finally, she had
said it, expressed it. The burden on her shoulders lifted.

“
A merchant,” Empress Ze Tian
regarded her daughter with an expression Javen realized reminded
him of a hawk looking at a prairie dog.
Bird-women. Not
singing songbirds in ornamental gilded cages.. These birds are wild
and sharp-taloned.

“Yes, Mother. A merchant. I would like to follow the
Windwalkers for a year or so, so that I could learn the art and
trade.”

Javen saw Min Feng’s tiny smile, as if she was
trying to reassure him. His heart pounded.

The Empress was silent, her face calm, cool.
Suddenly, she began to laugh, a merry sound. “I am glad, daughter,
that you spoke directly and without fear. I had wanted to ask you
about your needs.”

Javen was struck by the revelation that the Empress
and her daughter were close. That the Empress visibly loved the
princess and cared about her. This rare show of real emotion, away
from Courtly protocol, startled him.

“Mother…” Min Feng opened her mouth and closed it
again.

Ze Tian lifted a hand, signaling that she wanted to
continue. “I have my conditions. Firstly, I would want a report,
twice a month, about your performance. Secondly, Madame Betta
Windwalker, I would like your opinions regarding my daughter’s
performance. Please be honest and frank. It is an apprentice-ship
after all.”

Min Feng could hardly believe her
ears. No reprimand. No stern scolding. Her
mother
actually agreed to what she had said. The words
she had so arduously prepared faded away.

“Thank you, Mother,” she breathed.

“Now if you excuse us, I would like to talk to
Madame Windwalker in private.” Ze Tian said and that was it: the
audience was over. Javen and Min Feng were effectively
dismissed.

***

They strolled in silence, the jasmine flowers
fragrant around them like a perfumed wall. Indeed it was a walled
garden, the noise and bustle of ordinary Court life kept away. It
was a place where the Imperial family would go to, if they wanted a
moment of serene contemplation and peace of mind. It was almost
evening and the sun was setting, casting a peach tone to the
foliage.

Javen Windwalker was the first one to speak. “So,
you are going to follow my aunt.”

The princess beside him –
heir apparent, Javen, heir apparent!
–
simply nodded. She paused to sniff at the jasmine
flowers.

“I would be enrolling at the Mesa Academy,” the
young Navajo man said. “I am going to read medicine.”

Min Feng turned around and faced him. He had such a
strong face, a vivid face. “Are you going to be a doctor?”

“Yes. General physician. Or a surgeon. I wanted to
be a healer when I was a kid. My father is one. Carrying on the
family tradition, I guess.”

“And I will be apprenticing under your aunt,” Min
Feng grinned and had to wince, because the facial movement
disturbed the burns and they were still awfully tender.

Silence once more. A soft hint of jasmine and orange
blossom – and Min Feng had positioned herself in front of the young
man. Her posture was shy. Her eyes were intent though. Bright,
hopeful.

Javen found his right hand raised, about to caress
her face. The princess saw that and smiled.

“You are one intriguing bird-girl,” he placed his
hand, curved, on her right cheek. The contact was so precious, so
intimate, that Min Feng stored the memory into her mind, knowing
that she would savor it in her quiet moments for days, months to
come. “Princess, apprentice and phoenix. You have many layers.”

They gazed at each other, daring not to speak. Then,
laughing, they both pulled away and carried on walking.

That day, Min Feng soared, proud and singing.

A phoenix with a purpose.

Ascension

They climbed the sun-baked boulders,
carefully avoiding the spiky succulents and cacti nestled in the
crevices. Above them spun the summer-hot sun, aflame in a
robin-blue sky. A few white clouds scudded across the sky. The wind
was hot and dry. Yet they did not seem to mind, bearing their
backpacks.

The Mesan landscape was pure desert, dotted
with its distinctive land formations that gave its name. When the
Navajo nation came and settled, they were struck by the familiarity
of this landscape to the one they had left behind on Old Terra. Of
course, some parts of Mesa had been terra-formed to make it more
hospitable, more so than the first Alliance planet Mars. For the
people of Mesa, the place was sacred land. A home. A sanctuary.

“Almost there,” Javen Windwalker wiped his
brow and stood on the boulder with a sure-footedness born out of
years of running through the desert as a boy. He loved Mesa and
drank in the sights, renewing that love. He had just returned from
spending a semester at Mesa Academy and he was eager to make the
most of the vacation. “Just a few more rocks and we reach the slot
canyon.”

His companion had her distinctive
black-and-gold hair tied in a loose ponytail. This time, it was
more black than gold. Her face glistened with a mist of
perspiration, beads of water on her upper lip. She was laughing
though, licking the perspiration away. She had a plain white shirt
one with brown khaki shorts. Sensible walking shoes as the aunts
had advised her. No use running bare-foot and encountering the
less-than-harmonious critters like scorpions or a particularly
defensive bug with a nasty disposition.

Somewhere, she was a princess, the first
daughter of the Empress, heir apparent to the Phoenix Throne. Here,
she was simply Min Feng or Min, as the aunts had taken to calling
her, having adopted her in as one of their own. She had dropped all
Courtly airs. Mesa did that to many people who visited it and ended
up staying for good.

They continued their careful scramble
down
this time, entering into a valley of shrub-land filled
with small trees and a shallow running stream. As they reached the
bottom, the boulders rose up beside them like silent sentinels.
Javen took some time to show Min Feng a few plants. Wild mulberry
grew here and they were ripe, staining their fingers with a vivid
purple. Mesquite pods littered the dry earth, crackling beneath
their shoes. They followed the stream; it led to a cavern.

“Mind your head,” Javen grinned and ducked
in confidently, Min Feng following more cautiously. The cavern was
low and damp, with hint of moisture. At first they stooped as they
walked, admiring the cave art done all over the rock walls. Hand
prints. Figures of cattle and antelope. Javen explained that they
were not ancient art; it was made by an artist trying to evoke the
memories of the past. People still loved the cave art and made
pilgrimages to the cavern. “Keep on walking,” the young man
encouraged his companion.

The cavern soon widened and grew larger. Min
Feng straightened her back, only to find that she was surrounded by
waves of pink, orange and salmon. Rock waves, curving, flowing
around her. A slot canyon! There was the sound of running water in
the distance. The place was magical. Warm, silent and pulsating
with life. Light lanced through the ceiling, diffusing on the soft
earth.

“Follow me,” Javen chuckled at the look of
wonder on Min Feng’s face. She had never seen slot canyons before
and definitely not
his
slot canyon. She had already spent
half a year or so on Mesa, mostly in the urban areas, as she
followed his Aunt Betta as a merchant apprentice. She had not,
however, ventured out into the desert lands.

And there she was, placing her hand on the
smoothed rock, touching, remembering. The slot canyon was his
personal hiding place, away from his aunts who could be a little
intrusive sometimes, when it came to personal stuff. He had always
retreated here when he was growing out of his pre-teenage years and
rode out the pain of puberty in the gentle warmth of the slot
canyon. He wanted to show Min Feng something else.

The flowing walls converged into a pool of
crystal-clear water. Above it was a dome formed of flame-colored
rocks. Their footsteps echoed in the natural chamber. Javen was
immediately heartened at the sight of his pool. He had not seen it
since he started his semester at the Academy. It was fed with
spring water and it had never run dry nor become stale.

Min Feng was standing next to him, her
expression wistful, as if she was remembering something else. She
did tell him about her experiences at a nunnery. He looked at her
face, especially the left cheek. Faint white scars criss-crossed
otherwise smooth skin. It took some time for the wounds to heal.
She would remember the hot oil and the pain forever.

“This is beautiful,” Min Feng broke the
silence with a soft reverential voice.

“I used to come here often,” Javen put his
backpack down and sat on the earth, feeling its delicious softness
on his hands. He pulled off his shoes and relaxed, gazing up at the
dome.

Min Feng sighed appreciatively, doing the
same. For a while, they just sat and listened to the sound of water
and the whispering echoes. Then Min Feng stood up and peeled her
shirt off. She was only wearing a skin-colored brasserie. With a
laugh, she stepped into the water. Javen knew that the pool was
only waist-deep and the water a pleasant cool temperature. He
removed his own shirt and joined her. They splashed at each other,
the chamber reverberating with their giggles and shouts. Min Feng
dipped her entire body in, soundlessly slipping into the water,
blowing bubbles before emerging with a gasp.

With a start, Javen realized that they had
moved closer to each other, their bare skin touching, a pleasant
electric contact. He had to admit that Min Feng was attractive. He
swallowed, watching her chest heave and glisten with water. She
shifted, suddenly aware that he was looking at her. They moved a
little closer, until they were facing each other. Almost shyly,
they stole a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away.

They came out of the water and toweled
themselves dry before resting on the earth and letting the mild
heat dry their skin and clothes. It was a companionable silence
they both enjoyed.

***

Aunt Betta rubbed her tired eyes.
Accounting, in other names, was still accounting. This was one part
of trading she did not really enjoy. It was a necessary evil, she
told her often, even when the numbers did not add up and turn into
gibberish after multiple calculations. She was a perfectionist,
wanting her numbers to be perfect. Numbers seemed to have minds and
spirits of their own. A miscalculation, an error, would mean that
she would have to go through it all over again. Sometimes, just
sometimes, enough was enough. She thumbed the digi-ledger close and
took a long sip at her dark coffee, a special blend from Tertullian
VI. Even relaxed, she mentally rummaged through the things she had
to do.
Ah, Min Feng’s report
. There it lay, a small
digi-pad.