Winged: A Novella (Of Two Girls) (23 page)

Min Feng needed to grab hold of Javen before
he headed back to Mesa Academy for another semester. He had been
busy ever since they came back from his slot canyon, helping his
mother harvest bundles of desert sage and assorted herbs. She made
a point of looking out for him once she had finished her chores for
the day and if Aunt Betta was willing, was free to walk around the
small town they were living in. The dreams had been troubling her.
Javen had been tight-lipped when it came to her
nei huo
and
shied away from talking about it when she tried to broach the topic
everytime.

She had to make him understand that the
nei huo
was not a disease to be scared of. Nor was it
destructive enough to turn her into some mythological monster. It
was a gift, as many of her aunts and her mother would say, and not
something to be feared. And like all gifts, it had to be kept and
treasured. It was also part of who she was. Her heritage. She could
not deny her heritage as much as he could his.

He had seen her shift before and it had no
doubt etched a permanent mark in him. Part of him
knew
what
she was. He was that intuitive. Another part however denied it and
put it away.
Out of mind, out of sight
, as Bei would say.
She was not going to walk around with an imagined stigma.

She chanced upon Javen hanging the herbs out
to dry. His back was facing her as he carefully hung the crinkly
bundles on the wooden racks. The evocative smell of sage pervaded
the air.

“Javen?” Min Feng said and she smiled when
he turned around. He was bare-chested and she was well aware of the
sinewy musculature beneath his brown skin. Oh, yes.
That
. So
far they had only kissed and held hands.

“Min,” he smiled, flashing even white teeth,
before he took a swig at a bottle of water. “You done with your
studies for the day?”

She nodded and searched for words in her
head. She thought she came prepared. Apparently, the words had all
absconded, leaving her lost and bewildered.

“We need to talk,” she began and mentally
knocked herself.
Now, that sounded tooserious, didn’t it?
She was a trader. A
merchant
, for Heavens’ sake. She should
have the gift of words. At the moment, the art of persuasion eluded
her.

“Is anything wrong?” Javen asked, his face
worried. “Are you all right?”

“No, no. I am fine. I just need to talk
about my phoenix flame.”

There
. The invisible shields
immediately rose up like barricades. Javen clamped his lips
together and turned resolutely back to the herbs rack.

“Javen, you are not going to run away from
this issue, because it
concerns
me and
is
a part of
me,” Min Feng pressed on determinedly. “I am not a monster. The
phoenix flame is my heritage. My ancestors had it. My family has
it. I have it.”

He did not say anything. The bundles bobbed
in the breeze, sending intermittent whispers of fragrance.

“It is not a disease, not a blood
disorder
,” Min Feng could see the chords on his back
tightening. “You are training to be a doctor. You should know.”

Javen glanced at her sharply. “It is the
unknowns I am worried about, Min.”

“That I would end up hurting someone.” She
said flatly.

He turned back to the herbs. Min Feng
stepped forward and placed her hand on his bare back. She could
feel muscles twitching spasmodically beneath her palm.

“I admit that when I was at the nunnery, I
almost burned it down. The statues all melted. I charred the entire
exercise ground. But I am changed now. I have controlled it, Javen.
Please do not be afraid of me.” That last sentence was a silent
plea.
Please look at me, Javen. Look at me. I am standing right
in front of you. I am real.

“Min…” Javen’s reply was softer than she’d
expected. “I am not… afraid of you. I am afraid of the power
inside
you.”

Silence. It hung between them like a laden
weight. Gently, tentatively, Min Feng rested her head against the
warm skin smelling of the sun and spicy cologne.
His scent
,
she thought.
I will always remember it.
He did not stiffen
and for that, she was glad. It was better than outright
rejection.

“I know you are no monster. I am just…
afraid of the consequences if it is out of control. That’s all.”
His voice was like honey. Amber-gold. She drank it up.

“A part of me,” she murmured and she knew he
heard her. “A part of me.”

“I know.”

“I
am
. No pretense. No hiding. And
you haven’t seen me shift for a while now.”

She carefully circled his torso with her
arms. Javen swallowed and clasped her hands, pressed them against
his chest.

“I promised myself that I would not hurt
anyone. Anyone. Not even you.” She touched the skin before her with
tender lips. “Not even you.”

Are you sure?
Unspoken words. Javen
did not respond. Min Feng inhaled his musk. She had said her piece.
She was surprising how drained she’d felt. She gently tugged at his
hands, pulling her arms away.

“I won’t hurt you.” She said. A promise. A
vow. Without a sound, she walked away.

Javen waited until her footsteps had faded
away before turning around. He held a sage bundle in his hand. “No,
Min. I am afraid you might end up hurting yourself.”

Just then, one of the sage bundles became
loose and scattered in the breeze. The desert air current whipped
the dry twigs into little swirling eddies.

***

Yrant listened to the conversations just as
fei
had done when
fei
was a child. So rich, so
layered, so informative.
Fei
stored them avidly, for later
use. Very tasty.

The kitchen was such a valuable place. The
things being served in there… and it was not only the food. Gossip.
Vents. Rants. Especially gossip. Tiny little tantalizing hooks,
revealing bits about their speakers and the one they were talking
about.
Fai
was well known for their gossip and the many
intrigues it would and did transpire. Gossip would lead to
fai
joining with other
fai
in social alliances or
being sold at the market as chattel.

So, so
. Apparently, warships had been
sent to Artia. Hints of a potential conflagration? Oh, the Empress
loved this particular dish.
Note taken
. She liked the
crystal buns with the chopped chives? Oh, definitely! She has
requested it again. Good, good!
Ah, I will remember this
.
The princess Min Feng has been gone for a long time. Yes.
The
heir-apparent. Another layer. This is delicious.

Fei
added a pinch of sea salt into
the broth
fei
was making. It was a seafood broth, with
cooked clams opened up like little pink butterflies and red
crustaceans with bristly feelers and claws.

The cook beside
fei
regarded
fei
curiously. “You are new.”

“I just joined the kitchen. I came from the
rural town of
– going
through memory data
– Yashid.”
Yrant answered and
fei
was pleased that the cook – a
good-looking young man – was satisfied with
fei
answer.
Fei
knew that
fei
had come across as female and the
young man was responding to the perceived femininity. Shy boyish
admiration. Not like Julian’s frank and very masculine sexual
appraisal. Yrant frowned.
Fei
hated thinking about personal
things when
fei
was working on a mission. Very
distracting.

***

The four Imperial Fleet ships remained
motionless above Artia while the Phoenix Court envoy argued his
case with the administrator of the planet. Lady Elizabeth Stern-Aus
was obstinate and refused to budge. While the envoy tried to
explain the Phoenix Court’s actions, the lady administrator had
already made up her own mind. Beside her, her son offered words of
advice. The envoy found his presence oddly disturbing.

Like all new visitors to Artia, the envoy
had an instant dislike of the place. Sunless, extremely industrial,
the awful feeling of being hemmed in all directions. He could
hardly wait to return back to the Imperial City, where at least the
air was not stale and he could feel
free
.

The Artians were strange, no doubt products
of this unforgiving world. Most of them had pale skin; many were
albinos. No sun, a world in perpetual darkness. How terrible. Even
the formidable-looking Lady Stern-Aus had milky skin and hair a
washed-out blonde. Or was it already white? The envoy knew that, as
a diplomat trained to conduct cordial and civil relations with
other planets or races, he had to be empathetic to their needs and
hear them out. Dialogue was crucial. Yet, he confessed that the
physical appearance of the Artians perturbed him to a great degree.
Perhaps, indeed, the Phoenix Court had truly ignored these
seemingly fragile people. He truly believed that the Artians would
turn around and re-establish the quartz supply route. He should
convince the Empress that the Artians deserved something better
like an array of solar panels to bring in more light and brighten
the whole place up with cheer.

His accommodations were suitably lavish,
given such a spartan environment. The Artians loved to flaunt their
wealth indoors. His room had red velvet chairs and a large velvet
bed with fur rugs as blankets. They had provided him with a silver
tray replete with a decanter of red wine and three crystal wine
goblets. Now, the envoy enjoyed fine things and he poured some of
the red wine into one of the goblet, admiring the color of the wine
as it swirled down into the glass. He lifted it up, sniffed it
appreciatively. It was good wine, definitely aged, with hints of
cherries and chocolate.
A fine dessert wine
, he noted with
pleasure and sipped at it.
Delightful with a plate of figs and
nuts
.

The wine went down his throat like smooth
warm malt. The hints of cherry and cocoa grew stronger and he
savored it, closing his eyes with a soft sigh…

Only to feel the malt turn into icy
anti-coolant in his stomach. He gasped as the feeling of extreme
cold spread from his gut and to his limbs. It happened so quickly
that he did not even know he had fallen onto the floor. The goblet
fell and crashed, spilling its blood-red contents onto the rugs.
The cold soon became fiery agony.

Poison
.

He forced himself to crawl to his comp, his
limbs already dead to the world. He had to tell the commanding
officer about the treachery. Groaning, he flailed about, disgusted
and horrified at the non-response of his hands. He knew, by now,
that he was dying.
Just one more inch…

***

Alert
and
relaxed, Captain Helena
Zhangzi sat on her bridge chair. Her crew was operating like a
finely tuned orchestra around her. Quiet, diligent in their tasks,
the only chatter professional conversations between the several
officers as they confirmed their readings to one another. Her ship
- the
Raptor -
served as the flagship. The three other
warships – the
Eagle
, the
Hawk
and the
Falcon
– formed the rest of the Bird-of-Prey squadron-fleet. They orbited
around the mining planet, silently observing.

Envoy Tung was taking a especially long time
to report in. Helena pursed her lips. The negotiations should have
been done by now.

“Madam,” one of the communications ensigns
said suddenly. “A coded message from Envoy Tung.”

Her heart leapt. Old experienced hunter she
was, she experienced a chilling premonition of something
distinctively
wrong
. Her skin shivered, just as it would do
before she went into combat. Before he left for Artia, Tung had
informed her about potential dangers and how he had certain codes
for specific threats. He was such an interesting diplomat. He was
also ex-Fleet, according to her files.

“What did the code message say?” She glared
at the communications ensign who had since gone a little too quiet
for her liking. He gulped and answered in two words:

“
Hull breached
.”

Helena Zhangzi spun instantly into action.
There was treachery afoot on Artia and Envoy Tung was probably dead
by now. She would mourn later, much later. Now, it was
war
.

***

Justin nudged the corpse with his booted
foot. The plant poison had worked effectively, thanks to years
spent in the greenhouse and learning about the plants that heal and
kill. Knowledge of herbalism was an asset. The envoy resembled a
day-old corpse, limbs rigid with rigor mortis, though he was only
dead for a couple of hours. Fascinating, some plants were. And how
deadly, how beautiful
and
dangerous.